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Book_ 1 i 


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THE HOME BEYOND 


OR 


VIEWS OF HEAVEN 



Rt, Rev. SAMUEL FALLOWS, P.D., LL.D. 













THE HOME BEYOND 

OR 

VIEWS OF HEAVEN 

AND ITS RELATION TO EARTH 

BY 

OVER FOUR HUNDRED PROMINENT THINKERS AND WRITERS 


BY THE 

RT. REV. SAMUEL FALLOWS, D.D., LL.D. 

• i 

AUTHOR OF “BRIGHT AND HAPPY HOMES,’’ “LIBERTY AND UNION,” 
“SYNONYMS AND ANTONYMS,” “POPULAR AND CRITICAL 
BIBLICAL ENCYCLOPEDIA,” “LIFE OF JOHN ADAMS,” 

“STORY OF THE AMERICAN FLAG,” ETC. 




CHICAGO 

M. A. DONOHUE & CO. 

407-409 Dearborn St. 





LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Cople* R§c«v«d 

DEC 23 1907 

Coj»yri*nt Entry 
CLASS X*C. No. 
COPY B. 


Copyright by Samuel Fallows, 1883 
Copyright by Samuel Fallows. 1899 
Copyright by Samuel Fallows, 1907 


Kjsceived from 
Copyright Office. 

12 F ’08 





M. A. DONOH UEli COMPANY 
PRINTERS AND BINDERS 
407.429 DEARBORN STREET 
CHICAGO 






No subject is of such paramount or absorbing interest to 
man as that of death and the future life. “ If a man die 
shall he live again?” is the question springing from every heart, 
and trembling on every lip. To every home death comes. 
To every one it is appointed' once to die. Does death then, 
end all? Shall we write over our cemeteries, " Death is an 
eternal sleep”? 

Thank God we are not left in darkness on this intensely 
practical and important theme. Light, somewhat dim and 
struggling, it is true, comes from the fact that all the phe¬ 
nomena of mind are different from those of the perishable 
body, that our instincts and aspirations are for continued 
existence, that the best and longest life on earth is an imper¬ 
fect and therefore an incomplete life, that our sense of justice 
demands a future state for the vindication of right and the 
punishment of wrong, that the almost universal sentiment or 
conviction of the race has been in favor of a life to come of 
some kind or character. 

) But these considerations and others of a similar nature af¬ 
ford a mere probability only of the reality of an existence 
beyond the grave. The Christian Revelation makes that 
probability an assured certainty. Out of the region of wish¬ 
ful hope, of a strong foreboding, of a reasonable peradventure, 
it transports us to a world of glorious fact. Death is but a 
passage to another life. Death is but the vestibule to the 
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. Death 


6 


INTRODUCTION 


is but a shadow, not a substance. The dead are the truly 
living. From the skies, the world’s Prophet, Priest and King 
has come, incarnated in a human body, enshrining a human 
soul. From Joseph’s tomb 'He rose, the body the same, yet 
changed, the manhood changed, yet the same. Back to his 
native skies has He gone with the same body and the same 
manhood that manifested His divine nature while on the earth. 
By His life, death, resurrection and ascension, He hath abol¬ 
ished death and brought life and immortality to light. 

With him the departed saints have life in richness and full¬ 
ness inconceivable to us who are still amid the turmoils of this 
mortal existence. The personality they possessed here, they 
have there. They are the same, and yet changed. They know 
us still. They sympathize with us still. They love us still. 
They help us still. To that heavenly home they are waiting to 
welcome us when our warfare is accomplished. 

The aim of the author of the “Home Beyond” has been to 
set forth through the aid of the best thinkers and writers of the 
centuries, the grand truth of immortality, and the reality and 
glory of the Home in Heaven. The value of such a work, so care¬ 
fully compiled, is well nigh inestimable. To any who are beset 
with doubts and fears it will prove an armory from .which bright 
and shining weapons can be taken to put to flight these enemies 
of their comfort and peace. It will be a precious solace to 
those who are laying away to rest the loved ones of their homes 
and hearts. It will help their faith lift up the tearful eye to the 
land of beauty, bountifulness, and blessedness, where the re¬ 
deemed walk in white. It will stimulate them to live nobler 
lives on earth, that they may through the grace of God secure at 
last, the rest and rewards of Heaven. 


AUTHORS AND WRITERS QUOTED 


A 

Achilles. 

Adams, John Quincy. 

Addison, Joseph. 

Adkins, Rev. Dr. E. 

Adler, Felix. 

Aiken. 

Aiken, Rev. Dr. Wm. 

Ajax. 

Akenside. 

Alger, W. R. 

Antigone. 

Aristotle. 

Augustine, St. 

Anaxagoras. 

Angelo, Michael. 

Anquetil. 

Arbuthnot, Dr. 

Arch, John. 

Arnold, Edwin (Light of Asia). 
B 

Bacon, Lord Francis. 

Bacon, Roger. 

Bailey, Philip James. 

Bangs, Rev. S. B. 

Barnes, Albert. 

Barton, Bernard. 

Bascom, Bishop H. 

Bateman, Dr. 

Baxter, Richard. 

Bayne, Peter. 

Bayly, T. H. 

Becon, Thomas. 

Beale, Prof. 

Beattie, Dr. James. 

Beecher, Henry Ward. 

Bellows, Rev. Dr. H. W. 
Bennett, William C. 


Bentham. 

Bentley, Richard. 

Bernard of Clairvaux. 
Bethune, Rev. Dr. Geo. W. 
Beza. 

Bickersteth, Rev. E. H. 
Blackwood’s Magazine. 

Blair, Rev. Dr. Hugh. 
Blumhart. 

Bolingbroke, Lord. 

Bonar, Rev. Horatius. 
Brown, J. B. 

Browne, Sir Thomas. 
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett. 
Bryant, William Cullen. 
Buffon. 

Bulmer. 

Bunsen, Baron. 

Bunyan, John. 

Burgess, Rt. Rev. Dr. Geo. 
Burleigh, William H. 

Burns. 

Bushnell, Rev. Dr. Horace. 
Brozurgi. 

Byron. 

C 

Caird, Rev. John. 

Calvin, John. 

Camerarius. 

Campbell, Thomas. 

Campbell, Dr. 

Cardan. 

Carlyle, Thos. 

Carneades. 

Carpenter, Dr. W. B. 

Cato. 

Cecil, Richard. 

Chalmers, Dr. Thomas. 
Chambers’ Journal. 


7 




8 


LIST OF AUTHORS AND WRITERS QUOTED 


Cherubini. 

Chrysippus. 

Cicero. 

Clark. 

Clark, Bishop D. W. 

Clarke, Rev. Dr. James Freeman. 
Clarke, Rev. Dr. Rufus W. 
Clarke, Rev. James F. 

Claude. 

Cobbe, Frances Power. 

Coke, Lord. 

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor. 

Conder. 

Cook, Joseph, 

Cookman, Rev. Alfred. 

Cooper, Rev. Dr. W. H. 
Copernicus. 

Cornaro, Lewis. 

Collins, Anthony. 

Cornoval. 

Cotton. 

Cowper, William. 

Coxe. 

Cranmer, Archbishop. 

Crebillon. 

Crocker, Prof. B. F. 

Crosby, Rev. Dr. Howard. 
Cruciger. 

Cumberland. 

Cumming, Rev. Dr. John. 
Cunningham, Allan. 

Cuyler, Rev. T. L. 

Cyprian. 

D 

Damiani, Peter. 

Dana, Mrs. Mary S. B. 

Dana, Prof. Jas. B. 

Dante. 

Davies, Sir John. 

Davy, Sir Humphrey. 
Democritus. 

Denison, Mrs. 

Dewey, Rev. Dr. Orville 
Dickens, Charles. 

Dick, Rev. Dr. Thos. 

Diogenes. 

Dix, Rev. Dr. Morgan. 


Dobell, Sidney. 

Doddridge, Dr. Philip. 
Drelincourt, Rev. Charles. 
Duff, Rev. Dr. Me. 

Durer, Albert. 

Dyer, Rev. Dr. Sidney. 
Dykes, Rev. Dr. J. Oswald. 

E 

Eadie, Rev. Dr. John. 
Edmeston. 

Edmonson, Rev. J. E. 
Edwards, Rev. Dr. Jonathan. 
Elam, Dr. Charles. 

Elliott, Charlotte. 

Elizabeth, Charlotte. 

Emerson. 

Epimenides. 

Erasmus. 

Erskine. 

Eudemus. 

Euripides. 

Evans, Rev. Christine. 
Everett, Edward. 

F 

Faber. 

Faber, Rev. Dr. F. W. 
Fallows, Rt. Rev. Samuel. 
Farel. 

Farningham, Marianne. 
Farrar, Rev. Dr. F. W. 
Fenelon. 

Ferguson, Adams. 

Fisk, Rev. Dr. Wilbur. 
Fleury, Cardinal. 

Fontenelle. 

Forrester, Fanny. 

Foss, Bishop Cyrus. 

Foster, Bishop R. S. 

Fowler, Bishop Chas. H. 
Franklin, Dr. 

Fuerbach. 

Fuseli. 

G 

Galen. 

Galileo. 



LIST OF AUTHORS AND WRITERS QUOTED 


9 


Gascoigne. 

Gerok, Rev. Dr. Charles. 

Gill, T. H. 

Goethe. 

Goldoni. 

Goodell, Rev. Dr. C. L. 
Goodwin, Rev. Dr. E. P. 
Goodwin, Rev. Dr. T. A. 
Gorgias. 

Gough, John B. 

Grant. 

Gray, John. 

Greenwood, Rev. Dr. F. W. P. 
Gregory, Nyssen. 

Guthrie, Rev. Dr 

H 

Hale, Sir Matthew. 

Hall, Rev. Dr. John. 

Hall, Rev. Robert. 

Halley. 

Halsey, Rev. Leroy J. 
Hamilton, Sir William. 
Hamline, Bishop L. L. 

Handel. 

Harbaugh, Rev. Dr. H. 
Harvey. 

Hastings, Lady Elizabeth. 
Haven, Bishop Gilbert. 
Havergal, Miss Frances R. 
Haydn. 

Hayne, Paul E. 

Hazlitt. 

Heber, Bishop Reginald. 
Heberden. 

Hedge, Prof. F. H. 

Hemans, Mrs. 

Henry, Matthew. 

Hepworth, Rev. Dr. George H. 
Heraclitus. 

Herbert, George. 

Herodicus. 

Herodotus. 

Herschel. 

Heyne. 

Hickok, Rev. D. Laurens B. 
Hippocrates. 


Hitchcock, Prof. R. D. 
Hobart, Bishop John Henry. 
Hobbes. 

Homer. 

Hood, Thomas. 

Howard, John. 

Huie, Dr. Richard. 

Hunt, Leigh. 

Huntington, C. 

Huss, John. 

Hutton. 

Huxley, Prof. 


James, Rev. Dr. John. 
Jameson, Mrs. 

Jay, Rev. William. 

Jerekiah, Rabbi. 

Jerome. 

Jerome of Prague. 

Johnson, Dr. 

Julian, Emperor. 

K 

Kant. 

Keble, Rev. John. 

Ken, Bishop. 

King, Rev. Thomas Starr. 
Kinney, Mrs. Elizabeth C. 
Kipp, Rev. P. E. 

Klopstock. 

Knapp, Dr. George C. 

Kneller. 

L 

Lamartine. 

Landor. 

Laplace 

Latimer, Bishop. 

Lavel. 

Leighton, Archbishop. 

Leroy, M. 

Le Sage. 

Leyburn, Rev. Dr. John. 
Lickenback, Rev. W. H. 
Liddon, Rev. Canon Dr. H. P. 
Linnaeus. 



IO 


LIST OF AUTHORS AND WRITERS QUOTED 


Locke, John. 

Longfellow, Henry W. 
Longfellow, Marian. 

Lordat, M. 

Lowell, Maria W. 

Lowenhoeck. 

Luther. 

M 

MacLeod, Rev. Dr. Norman. 
Macrobius. 

MacDonald, Rev. George. 
Madden, Dr. 

Mahomet. 

Mahan, Rev. Dr. Asa. 

Mansfield, Lord. 

Mant, Bishop. 

Martineau, Rev. James. 

Martyn, Henry. 

Mather. Cotton. 

McClelland, Rev. Dr. Alexander. 
McDuff, Rev. Dr. J. R. 

McLain, Dr. 

McLaren, Mr. 

Melancthon. 

Melville, Rev. Canon H. 
Metastasio. 

Methusaleh. 

Miller, Hugh. 

Millman, Dean. 

Milton, John. 

Minos. 

Mivart. 

Mondalesco. 

Monsell, John S. B. 

Montgomery, James. 

Moody, D. L. 

Moore, Rev. Daniel. 

Moore, Henry. 

Morata, Olympia. 

More, Hannah. 

Morgagni. 

Muhlenberg, Rev. Wm. Augustus. 
N 

Naude. 

Neander. 

Neoptholemus, 


Nevin, Rev. Dr. J. W. 

Newell, Harriet. 

Newman. 

Newman, Cardinal J. H. 

Newton, Sir Isaac. 

Newton, Rev. John. 

Nollekens. 

Norris, John. 

Norton-, Mrs. 

O 

Oberlin. 

Olevianus, Casper. 

Olin, Dr. 

Opie, Amelia. 

Ormiston, Rev. Dr. Wm. 

Orpheus. 

P 

Paley, Archdeacon Wm. 

Paul, Jean. 

Parker, Theodore. 

Parr. 

Pascal. 

Payson, Rev. Dr. Edward. 
Peabody, Prof. A. P. 

Philo. 

Phrenological Journal. 

Pierpont, John. 

Pighius. 

Pinchas, Rabbi. 

Pindar. 

Pinel. 

Planche, J. R. 

Plato. 

Pliny. 

Pollok, Robert. 

Polybius. 

Polycarp. 

Porphyry. 

Porter, Pres. Noah. 

Potts, Rev. Dr. J. H. 

Power. 

Priestly, Dr. 

Priest, Mrs. N. A. W. 

Prime, Rev. Dr. S. I. 

Prior. 

Punshon, Rev. Dr. Wm. Morley. 
Pythagoras. 



LIST OF AUTHORS AND WRITERS QUOTED 


it 


Q 

Quarles, Francis. 
Quatrefages, Prof. 
Quersonnieres, des M 
Quintillian. 

R 

Rabelais. 

Rabrichebbo, Rabbi. 
Raleigh, Sir Walter. 
Randolph, A. D. F. 

Reid, Rev. D. M. 

Reid, T. 

Reylance, Rev. Dr. J. H. 
Rhadamanthus. 

Richards, William C. 
Ridley, Bishop. 

Robertson, Rev. F. W. 
Rollin. 

Rowe, Mrs. 

Rutherford, Samuel. 
Ruysch. 

S 

Sanderson, Mrs. N. I. M. 
Saunders, Lawrence. 
Scaliger, Joseph. 

Schaff, Rev. Dr. Philip. 
Schmacker, Rev. Dr. S. S. 
Scott, Rev. Dr. 

Scott, Sir Walter. 

Scudder, Rev. Dr. H. 
Seneca. 

Shakespeare. 

Shauffler, Rev. D. 

Shelton, Sir John. 
Sheridan, R. B. 

Shillaber, B. P. 

Sigourney, Mrs. L. H. 
Simpson, Rev. David. 
Simpson, Bishop Matthew. 
Sirmond, Father. 

Smiles, Samuel. 

Smith, Adam. 

Smith, Rev Dr. Henry B. 
Smyth, Rev. Dr. Thomas. 
Socrates. 

Sophocles. 

South, Dr. 


Southern, Thomas. 
Southey, Mrs. 

Southey, Robert. 

Spear, Rev. Dr. Sam T. 
Spenser. 

Spitta, Charles J. P. 
Sprague, Charles. 

Spring, Rev. Dr. Gardner. 
Spurgeon. 

Stanley, Dean. 

Steele, Annie. 

Stevens, Rev. Dr. Abel. 
Stevens, Rev. Dr. R. S. 
Stewart, D. 

Stilling. 

Stone, Mrs. Ellen. 

Storrs, Rev. Dr. R. S. 
Stowe, Harriet Beecher. 
Swift, Dean. 

Swing, Prof. David. 


T 

Talmage,' Rev. Dr. T. DeWitt. 
Taylor, Rev. Dr. George Lansing. 
Taylor, Isaac. 

Taylor, Dr. Rowland. 

Tennyson, Alfred. 

Theophilus. 

Theophrastus. 

Theopompus. 

Thomas, Rev. Dr. H. W. 
Thompson, Rev. Dr. J. P. 
Thucydides. 

Tillotson, Archbishop. 

Tissot, M. 

Titian. 

Trench, Archbishop. 

Trumbull, H. Clay. 

Tully. 

Turner, Rev. Dr. 


U 

Ursinus. 


V 

Varro. 

Vaughn, Rev. Dr. C. J. 
Virgil. 



12 


LIST OF AUTHORS AND WRITERS QUOTED 


Voltaire. 

Vossius. 

W 

Walker. 

Waller. 

Wastell, Samuel. 
Watson, Rev. Richard. 
Watts, Dr. 

Watts, James. 

Webster, Daniel. 

Weed, Thurlow. 
Wesley, Charles. 
Wesley, John. 

Whiston, 

White, Henry Kirke. 
Whitfield, 

Whittier, J. G. 

Wilcox. 

Wild, Rev. Dr. Joseph. 


Williams. 

Williams, Rev. Dr. W. R. 
Willis, N. P. 

Wilmot. 

Wilson, Bishop. 

Wilson, Prof. John. 
Winceslaus, Viscount, 
Winslow. 

Wishart, Rev. George. 
Wordsworth. 

X 

Xenophon. 

Y 

Young, Edward. 

Z 

Zeno. 

Zwinger. 



GENERAL INDEX 


A 

A Blind Girl’s Dream. 391 

A Changed Body—Rev. E. P. Goodwin, D. D. 191 

An Angel Standing By—Bishop Heber. 333 

Angelic Sympathy—John Milton. 334 

Angelic Sympathy Needed—Harbaugh. 341 

Angels Attendant upon Man—Rev. Albert Barnes. 340 

Angels are in Heaven—D. L. Moody. 334 

Angels not Unembodied Spirits—Rev. Dr. Dick. 345 

Angels our Escort to Heaven—Rt. Rev. Samuel Fallows, D. D.323 

Argument for Immortality from the Heart-Life—H. W. Thomas, D.D. 176 

A Risen Christ Victorious—Bishop Fallows. 192 

A Second Life—Prof. David Swing. 175 

Asleep in Jesus—Rev. Theodore L. Cuyler, D. D. 94 

A Stingless Death—Rev. J. Oswald Dykes, D. D. 81 

At Evening Time It Shall be Light—Rev. W. K. Lickenback. 216 

Atoms and Consciousness—Felix Adler. 35 

Attractions of Heaven—Bernard Barton. 269 

A Well-Founded Hope—George Herbert. 313 

B 

Baby’s Shoes—Wm. C. Bennett.*. 148 

Bear Them to Their Rest—Rev. George W. Bethune, D. D. 137 

Belief of Melancthon, Cruciger, Olevianus, and Scaliger—Rt. Rev. 

Geo. Burgess, D. D. 303 

Belief of the Hebrews—John Arch. 293 

Behold the Place where They Laid Him—Rev. Canon H. Melville, 

D. D. 199 

Be Reconciled in the Death of the Child—Rev. John Newton. 153 

Beyond the Grave— 3 ishop R. S. Foster, D. D. 253 

Bishop D. W. Clark—Bishop Fallows. 109 

Body and Soul—Rev. Thos. Starr King. 28 

Brevity of Life—Francis Quarles..... 53 

Bring the Children Home—D. L. Moody. 127 

Building up Life—J. B. Brown. 46 

Burial of Moses. 9 8 

But a Little While—Melville. 311 


13 
































14 


GENERAL INDEX 


C 

Children Under Care of Angels—Rev. Dr. Bethune. 329 

Christ Brings Immortality to Light—President Noah Porter, D. D. 

LL. D. 181 

Christ Conquered Death for Us—Rev. Joseph Wild, D. D. 196 

Christ is Risen—Rt. Rev. Samuel Fallows, D.D. 188 

Christ Receives Children Into Heaven—Rev. Dr. Doddridge. 139 

Christ’s Return to Heaven—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D. 210 

Christ Rose By His Own Power—Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 209 

Christ's Resurrection Body—D. L. Moody. 196 

Come Up Hither—Rev. F. W. P. Greenwood, D. D. 388 

Communion of the Dead with the Living—Rev. Prof. A. P. Peabody, 

D. D. 357 

Communion with the Departed—Bishop Pearson. 371 

Communion with the Departed—Rt. Rev. Geo. Burgess, D. D. 373 

Contrasts in Death—Rev. Sidney Dyer, D. D. 74 

Cowper’s Grave—Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 396 

D 

Daughter of Rev. T. A. Goodwin, D. D.—Bishop Fallows.. 112 

Death According to Philo—Quoted by Alger. 88 

Death a Divine Message—Rev. James Martineau. 93 

Death an Angel of Light—Rev. Sidney Dyer, D.D. 65 

Death and Immortality—George Gascoigne. 73 

Death and its Warnings—D. L. Moody. 62 

Death a Transition—Longfellow. 90 

Death Binds us Together—Samuel Smiles. 92 

Death Does Not End All—Rev. H. Scudder, D. D. 68 

Death Has Lost its Terror—Rev. Philip Schaff, D. D. 81 

Death is Life—Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 64 

Death is Yours—Rev. John Caird, D. D. 63 

Death of Garfield—Talmage. 101 

Death of the Good Man—Robert Blair. 76 

Death Overcome—Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 73 

Death Pangs, Birth Pangs—Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 77 

Death the Destroyer and the Restorer—Rev. W. R. Williams, D. D. 68 

Death the Fiat of God—Rev. Canon H. P. Liddon, D. D. 82 

Death the Gate of Life—Rev. Orville Dewey, D. D. 75 

Definitions of Man—Adam Smith. 22 

Degrees of Bliss in Heaven—Rev. J. A. McDuff, D. D. 367 

Departed Friends Near Us—Bishop M. Simpson. 399 

Destruction of the Assyrians—Byron. 69 

Don’t Pray to Keep Me, Mother Dear—William C. Richards. 141 

Dr. Guthrie—Bishop Fallows. 125 

Dr. Lowell Mason—Bishop Fallows.. 109 

Dying Friends Pioneers—Young. 289 









































GENERAL INDEX i 5 

E 

Earth Angels and Heaven Angels—Rev. H. Harbaugh, D. D. 331 

Employments of Heaven—Rev. Asa Mahan. 254 

Entering the Celestial Gate.. 381 

Evolution and Life—Prof. R. D. Hitchcock, D. D. 34 

Excitement and Short Life. 44 

Expectation of Meeting Friends—Rev. Richard Baxter. 283 

F 

Faith in Christ’s Resurrection—Bishop Fallows. 190 

Fallen Angels—Rev. John Hall, D. D. 352 

Farewell Life—Thomas Hood. 54 

Fill up the Ranks—Rev. John Cumming, D. D. 95 

Folding the Lambs in His Bosom—Talmage. 127 

Friends and Enemies Meet in Heaven—Archbishop Tillotson. 287 

Friends not Lost—Rev. Robert Hall. 311 

Friends Will be Known in Heaven—D. L. Moody. 284 

G 

Going to Jesus—D. L. Moody. 128 

Gone But not Lost—Mrs. Ellen Stone. 298 

Guardian Angels—Mrs. Jameson. 344 

H 

Hannah More. 223 

Harriet Newell. 224 

Heathen Views of Recognition—R. W. H. Cooper, D. D. 318 

Heaven—Rev. Geo. H. Hepworth, D. D. 268 

Heaven Above Us—D. L. Moody. 215 

Heaven a Happy Place—Rev. J. Edmonson. 267 

Heaven a Home Circle—Talmage. 215 

Heaven and Earth—F. W. Faber. 310 

Heaven and Eternal Life—Rev. Wm. Morley Punshon, D. D. 234 

Heaven a Place of Joy—Rev. S. S. Schmacker, D D., Rev. Thos. 

Smith, D. D. 301 

Heaven is Full of Children. 150 

Heaven not Far Away. 119 

Heaven Our Home—Rev. E. Adkins, D. D. 266 

Heaven Sought Through Trouble—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D.. 279 

He Is Not Here: He Has Risen—Canon F. W. Farrar, D. D. 203 

Heliodorus Punished in the Temple. 337 

Help from Those Fallen Asleep—Rev. C. J. Vaughn, D. D. 380 

Henry Martyn. 225 

Hooker’s Meditation on the Angels—Dean Stanley. 339 

Hope Beyond the Grave—James Beattie, LL. D. 164 

How Loving are the Angels to Men—Rev. C. H. Spurgeon. 347 

How Shall We Know Each Other in Heaven—Rev. J. Edmonson, 

D. D. 308 






































i6 


GENERAL INDEX 


I 

If We Could All Die Together—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D_ 91 

Immortal Flowers. 175 

Immortality—Rt. Rev. Samuel Fallows, D. D. 157 

Immortality and Death—Edward Young. 171 

Immortal Light. 179 

Inseparable Fellowship—Neander. 356 

Insurance and the Future Life—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D .. 167 

Into Thy Hands I Commend My Spirit—Geo. MacDonald. 96 

I Shall Know Him—Tennyson. 307 

Is Memory Annihilated—Rev. Wm. Jay. 286 

Isolation, and Future Union. 281 

I Would not Live Always—William Augustus Muhlenburg, D. D... 85 

J 

Jesus Interceding in Heaven—Rev. Wm. Ormiston, D. D. 000 

Jesus is Present in Heaven. 261 

Jesus the Precious Name in Death—Talmage. 78 

Jewish Rabbis on the Resurrection. . . 211 

John Howard. 229 

John Wesley’s Old Age. 51 

Joy in Heaven—D. L. Moody. 233 

Joys of Heaven—Nancy A. W. Priest. 258 

Joy of Pastor and People in Heaven—Rev. H. Harbaugh, D. D. 293 

K 

Knowing By and By—Bishop C. H. Fowler, LL. D. 256 

L 

Lambs Safely Folded—Rev. Dr. Bethune. 143 

Life a Journey—Rev. C. L. Goodell, D. D. 33 

Life and Death—Edward Young. 47 

Life a River—Sir Humphrey Davy. 48 

Life a Stream—Bishop Heber. 49 

Life is for Character, and Character for Immortality—Cardinal J. H. 

Newman. 55 

Life is Passing—Spurgeon. 49 

Life, New and Old—H. W. Beecher. 47 

Life One Great Ritual—Philip James Bailey. 36 

Life’s Discipline a Training for Heaven—Sir Humphrey Davy .... 48 

Life the Time for Work—Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 39 

Little Concern for the Future—Bishop M. Simpson. 170 

Live and Help Live—Alice Cary. 38 

Longevity of Studious and Busy Men—Charles Elam, M.D., M.R.C.P. 41 

Long Life and Hard Study. 44 































GENERAL INDEX 17 

Lord Bacon. 226 

Love Indestructible—Robert Southey. 31-/ 

Love Unites Us Again—Rev. James Freeman Clarke, D. D. 387 

Lucy—Rev. Horatius Bonar, D. D. 134 

M 

Man and Nature—Prof. James D. Dana. 19 

Man, Animal and Rational—Mivart. 40 

Man a Reed that Thinks—Pascal. 18 

Man a Temple of Heaven—Carlyle. 18 

Man, Body and Spirit—Prof. James D. Dana. 19 

Man, Body, Soul and Spirit—Rev. F. W. Robertson. 25 

Man on the Darwinian Theory—Bishop Randolph Foster, D. D.... 21 

Man Redeemable—Samuel Taylor Coleridge... 30 

Man’s Mortality—Simon Wastell. 101 

Man’s Nobility—Shakespeare. 19 

Man the Child of God—Bishop R. S. Foster, D. D. 17 

Many Mansions—Isaac Taylor. 232 

Martyrs in Heaven—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage. 235 

Material Processes and Life—Felix Adler. 34 

Messages to the Other Side—Rev. Dr. Talmage. 297 

Metaphors of Life—Prior.’.. 56 

Mind Not the Result of Organization—Rev. John Leyburn, D. D.. 27 

Mind Preserves its Integrity Amid the Decay of the Body—C. Elam, 

M. D. 20 

Ministering Angels in Holy Scriptures—Philip Doddridge, D. D.... 349 

Money Cannot Buy Heaven—Talmage. 232 

Moral Life Beyond Earth—Rev. Norman MacLeod, D. D. 173 

More Friends in Heaven than on Earth—Rev. F. W. P. Green¬ 
wood, D. D. 293 

Mozart’s Requiem—Rufus Dawes. 97 

Mr. McLaren of Edinburgh—Edward Forny. 228 

My Child—John Pierpont.„. 151 

My Two Angel Boys—B. P. Shillaber. 377 

N 

Nature and Man—John B. Gough. 29 

Nearer My Rest—Marian Longfellow. 86 

New Powers in Heaven—Rev. Andrew R. Bonar, D. D. 255 

No Death in Heaven—Rev. J. Edmonson, A. M. 251 

No Fear in Heaven—Rev. J. Edmonson, A. M.•. 263 

No Fear of Death—Bishop M. Simpson, D. D. 87 

No More Sea—Rev. Rufus W. Clark, D. D. 271 

No Night in Heaven—Rev. R. W. Clark, D. D. 237 

No Night in Heaven—Rev. J. Edmonson. 259 

No Regret in Heaven—Bishop L. L. Hamline. 243 

No Sorrow in Heaven—Edmonson. 263 






































18 GENERA L INDEX 

Not Lost, but Gone Before—Montgomery. 299 

Not One Life Destroyed—Alfred Tennyson. 37 

Not Strangers to Each Other—Rev. W. H. Cooper, D. D. 422 

Not Wrong to Speculate About Heaven—D. L. Moody. 312 

O 

Of Such is The Kingdom—Mrs. Mary S. B. Dana. 138 

One Link Gone—Unknown. 145 

Only a Little Brook—Bishop Fallows. 107 

On the Death of a Mother—Amelia Opie. 100 

Our Beloved. 355 

Our Burial Places Sacred—Rev. Alexander McClelland, D. D. 74 

Our Coming Life—John G. Whittier. 378 

Our Departed Friends are in Heaven—D. L. Moody. 287 

P 

Paradise—Archbishop Trench. 264 

Personality and Consequent Sympathy of the Departed—Rev. H. W. 

Bellows, D. D. 383 

Prof. Huxley’s One-Sided View—Prof. Huxley. 20 

Progression in Heaven—Rev. D. M. Reid. 221 

Proof of Christ’s Resurrection—Rev. John Eadie, D. D., LL. D .. .. 198 

R 

Raised on the Last Day—Rt. Rev. Bishop John Henry Hobart, D. D. 195 

Recognition a Truly Catholic Idea—Rev. J. W. Nevin, D. D. 289 

Recognition of Friends in Heaven. 381 

Recognition in Heaven—Peter Damiani. 286 

Recognition in Heaven a Fact—Rev. Wm. Morley Punshon, D. D. 

Bishop Ken. Southey. 314 

Recognition No Day Dream—Bishop Mant. 317 

Recognition Not a Fancy—Rev. John James, D. D. 301 

Regret but Not Murmur—William Cowper.. 190 

Remembrances of the Dead—Lamartine. 296 

Rev. Alfred Cookman—Bishop Fallows. no 

Rev. David Simpson. 224 

Rev. Edward Pa.yson, D. D.—Bishop Fallows. 125 

Rev. Prof. Henry B. Smith, D. D. 126 

Rev. Richard Watson. 227 

Rev. Wilbur Fisk, D. D. 226 

Richard Baxter. 225 

Right and Wrong Views of Death—Prof. A. P. Peabody, D. D.. .. 66 

S 

Sainted Friends—Rev. H. Harbaugh, A. M. 368 

Saintly Sympathy—Unknown. 386 

Samuel Rutherford—T. H. Bayly. 227 



































GENERAL INDEX 


19 


Say Not ’Twere a Keener Blow. 142 

Scripture Names of Heaven—Rev. J. E. Edmonson, A. M. 246 

Shall We Know Each Other—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D. 282 

Shall We Know Each Other—Luther’s Conversation. 283 

Sir Isaac Newton—Waller. 123 

Summary of Reasons for Recognition—Rt. Rev. Samuel Fallows, 

D. D. 279 

Sympathy of Angels—Rev. H. Melville. 344 

T 

Tears for the Departed Children—Talmage. 142 

Telegraphing Ahead to Heaven—D. L. Moody. 308 

The Angel of Patience—John G. Whittier. 350 

The Angels Coming for St. Cecilia. 337 

The Angels Desire to Look into Salvation—Bishop M. Simpson, D. D. 326 

The Arguments of Plato—Prof. B. F. Crocker, D. D. 178 

The Belief of the Fathers—Dr. Edwards. 309 

The Blessings of a Short Life—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D. 45 

The Bodies of Angels—Rev. Dr. Dick. 332 

The Child and the Mourners—Charles Mackay. 404 

The Child is Dead—Rev. Irenaeus Prime. 133 

The Child is with God—Henry Ward Beecher. 140 

The City of God for Me—Rev. R. S. Storrs, D. D. 217 

The Cloud of Witnesses—Rev. H. Harbaugh* D. D. 373 

The Cloud of Witnesses—Bishop Matthew Simpson, D. D. 374 

The Dead and the Living. 83 

The Dead are Ours Still—Thomas Starr King. 92 

The Dead are the Living—Rev. Orville Dewey, D. D. 67 

The Dead are with Us—Rev. S. I. Prime, D. D. 395 

The Dead Glorified Through Christ—Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 197 

The Dear Love of Old—Sydney Dobell. 386 

The Death Angel—Geo. W. Bethune, D. D. 135 

The Death-Day Better than the Birth-Day—Rev. C. H. Spurgeon.. 59 

The Death of a Child—Cunningham. 150 

The Death of a Good Man—Spurgeon. 80 

The Death of Death—Rev. Dr. Guthrie, W. R. Alger. 79 

The Death of the First Born Child—Blackwood’s Magazine. 146 

The Departed Anxious for Us—Neander. 371 

The Departed Employed on Ministries of Love—Bishop R. S. Foster. 401 
The Departed Preserve Their Integrity—Prof. A, P. Peabody, D. D. 291 

The Departed Remember—Stilling.33:0—385 

The Departed Still Ours—Rev. H. W. Beecher, D. D. 395 

The Desire for Continued Existence—Rev. Canon H. P. Liddon, D. D. 168 
The Divine Element in Evolution—Rev. J. H, Reylance, D. D. . . . 22 

The Dying Child and Her Departed Mother—Rev. H. Harbaugh, D. D 107 
The Dying Dauphin—Rev. J. H. Potts, D. D. no 

































GENERAL INDEX 


The Dying Husband—Leigh Hunt. 121 

The Dying Mother—Robert Pollok. 100 

The Dying Seeing Departed Friends—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D. 105 

The Dynasty of the Future—Hugh Miller. 165 

The Evening Cloud—Professor Wilson. 206 

The Evening of Death—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage. 61 

The Family in Heaven and Earth—Edmeston. 406 

The Future Life—W. C. Bryant. 290 

The Grafted Bud. 379 

The Great Hereafter—Clark. 169 

The Happier Sphere. 407 

The Heavenly (Country. 245 

The Heavenly Host—Prof. Frederick H. Hedge, D. D. 380 

The Heavenly Host of Angels—Dean Stanley. 339 

The Historic Dead—Rev. Samuel T. Spear, D. D... 90 

The Hope of Immortality—Prof. David Swing. 166 

The Idea of Man’s Immortality Divinely Impressed—Henry Moore. 171 

The Immortal Life. 170 

The Immortal Mind—Anne Steele. 182 

The Immortal Spirit—Thomas Campbell. 179 

The Interest of Angels in Men—Bishop Cyrus Foss, D. D. 325 

The Magi and the Resurrection—W. R. Alger. 209 

The Memory of the Sainted Dead—Rev. H. Harbaugh, A. M. 372 

The Mother and Her Dying Boy.... 163 

The Nation’s Guardian Angels—Talmage. 332 

The New Jerusalem—Rev. Horatius Bonar, D. D. 276 

The New Song—D. L. Moody. 242 

The Peak in Darien—Frances Power Cobbe. 112 

The Peril of Life—Mrs. Southey. 37 

The Pleasing Hope of Recognition—Dr. Doddridge—R. Huie. 313 

The Poor Dying Girl—Rev. C. H. Fowler, D. D. 328 

The Present Life in View of the Future—N. P. Willis. 39 

The Question of Recognition Unnecessary—Rev. Dr. Dick. ,. 303 

The ReapOr and the Flowers—Henry. W Longfellow. 136 

The Resurrection Body—Joseph Cook. 201 

The Resurrection Illustrated—H. W. Thomas, D. D. 207 

The Resurrection Morning—D. L. Moody. 190 

The Resurrection Morning—Dr. Talmage. 205 

The Resurrection of Christ—Rt. Rev. Samuel Fallows, D. D. 185 

The Resurrection of Christ Attests the Incarnation—Rev. Geo. Lans¬ 
ing Taylor, D. D. 189 

The Revelations to the Dying—Bishop D. W. Clark, D. D. 118 

The Right View of Death—D. L. Moody. 87 

The Sainted Dead. 408 

The Sainted Dead Interested in the Living—Bishop Matthew Simp¬ 
son, D. D. 370 

The Sainted Dead Interested in Us—Rev. H. Harbaugh, A. M. 363 













































GENERAL INDEX 21 

The Sainted Dead Lead Us Heavenward—Rev. H. Harbaugh, A. M. 362 

The Sainted Watchers—Rev. H. Harbaugh, A. M. 369 

The Separation Short—Dr. Philip Doddridge. 311 

The Shining Ones—John Bunyan. 365 

The Shore of Eternity—Rev. F. W. Faber, D. D. 275 

The Sooner We Go, the Better—Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D.. .. 52 

The Soul Departing—Charlotte Elliot. 89 

The Soul Does Not Sleep—D. L. Moody. 88 

The Soul’s Power in Heaven—Rev. Horace Bushnell, D. D. 240 

The Spirit Retains its Human Form—Bishop D. W. Clark, D. D... 393 

The Spirit Survives its Completeness—Rev. Canon H. P. Liddon, D. D. 72 

The Strain of Immortality—W. R. Alger. 172 

The Strong Immortal Hope. 285 

The Sympathy of the Two Worlds—Rev. C. H. Spurgeon. 384 

The True Heaven—Paul E. Hayne. 252 

The Upward Procession—Rev. W. H. Cooper, D. D. 295 

The Upward Tendencies of the Soul—Akenside. 165 

The Voices of the Dead—Rev. Wm. Aikman, D. D. 403 

The Voices of the Dead—Rev. Orville Dewey, D. D. 71 

They are Perfectly Blest—Marianne Farningham. 376 

This Life an Argument for the Next—Theodore Parker. 173 

Three Little Angels. 335 

Through a Glass Darkly—Rev. Hugh Blair, D. D. 180 

Thy Will be Done. 102 

Ties not Broken in Death—Rev. H. Harbaugh, D. D. 407 

To Live is Christ—Dean Stanley. 54 

Toward Evening—Talmage. 75 

Two Funerals—Spurgeon. 7 6 

U 

Unseen Companions—Rev. Howard Crosby, D. D. 343 

V 

Various Views of Future Happiness. 231 

Victor Over Death—Bishop Gilbert Haven, D. D. 93 

Views of Wesley, Oberlin, and Clark—D. L. Moody. 328 

Visions of a Dying Youth—Rev. Thos. Binney, D. D. 106 

W 

We Do Not Lose Departed Friends—H. Clay Trumbull. 402 

We Do Not Worship a Dead Saviour—D. L. Moody. 193 

We Live in Hope of Seeing Friends Again—Cyprian. 285 

We Love to Visit Our Cemeteries—Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 78 

We Mourn Not without Hope—Lavel, Rev. John Newton, Fenelon, 

R. Huie. 300 

We Shall Know Each Other in Glory—Rev. J. Edmonson. 304 

We Shall Know Each Other in Heaven—Rt. Rev. Geo. Burgess, D.D. 302 



































22 


GENERAL INDEX 


We Shall Know One Another—Thos. Becon. 298 

We Shall Reach the Haven—Dean Stanley. 89 

What a Meeting in Heaven—Bishop M. Simpson, D. D.299-385 

What is Death?—Buzurgi (The Persian Poet). 65 

What Shall We Be?—Charles J. P. Spitta. 319 

Which Shall Go?—Mrs. Elizabeth C. Kinney. 149 

Whitefield’s Death—Rev. Abel Stevens, D. D. 130 

Why Men Deny Angelic Existence—Bishop Fallows. 327 

Will You Write About Me, Mother?—Mrs. N. I. M. Sanderson. 389 

Worship in Heaven—Rev. Richard Watson. 239 

Would You Call Him Back?—Rev. S. J. Prime, D. D. 152 














MAN, THE CHILD OF GOD. 

BISHOP R. S. FOSTER, D. D. 


OW let us go back to this Artist of the universe, 
alone; I would like to show how the first infinitesi¬ 
mal stone was laid, and stone upon stone reared, 
building up in sublime beauty through the 
millions of years; how He stood before it and 
viewed it, and compared it with the original. Now 
I shall go back to that condition of things when 
there were no forms, no voices, no spirits palpi¬ 
tating with rapturous emotion. God is alone the un¬ 
originated, eternal God, who is now about to disclose 
what He is, to unfold Himself. There is no intel¬ 
ligence to see Him, but He will make one; He has 
the thought now of an intelligence that will stand 
spellbound before that which He will make; that 
will trace His power, see His wisdom, delight in His order, revel in 
His glory: He is going to make such a soul as that. He now begins 
His project: fixes systems of worlds that shall hang upon nothing, 
that shall flame and flash in fixed orbits, clothed with fashion and 
forms of beauty and delight to spirits like His own, that shall bow 
before Him as the Lord that has created all things, thereby manifest¬ 
ing His skill, wisdom, power and eternal Godhead. Now, if you will 
study Him, you will find that there is something within His soul that 
is within your soul. See the flowers of creation, carpets of verdure, 
of beauty; there was that beauty in His mind. See He is designing 
a complex of confections; He forms the refreshing waters and the 
delicious fruits. He is kind, thoughtful and loving, more so than a 
delicate, loving mother to her child. 

17 












18 


THE HOME BEYOND 


MAN A TEMPLE OF HEAVEN. 


HE essence of our being, the mystery in us that calls itself 
“I”—ah, what words have we for such things?—is a breath 
of Heaven; the Highest Being reveals Himself in man c 
This body, these faculties, this life of ours, is it not all as a 
^ vesture for that Unnamed? “There is but one temple in the uni 
verse,” says the devout Novalis, “ and that is the body of man. 
Nothing is holier than that high form. Bending before men is a 
reverence done to this revelation in the flesh. We touch heaven 
when we lay our hand on a human body.” This sounds much like a 
mere flourish of rhetoric; but it is not so. If well meditated, it will 
turn out to be a scientific fact; the expression, in such words as can 
be had, of the actual truth of the thing. We are the miracle of 
miracles—the great inscrutable mystery of God. We cannot under¬ 
stand it, we know not how to speak of it; but we feel and know, if 
we like, that it is verily so. 

Carlyle. 


MAN A HEED—THAT THINKS. 




'AN is but a reed, the frailest in nature; but he is a reed 
^ that thinks. It needs not that the whole universe should 
^ arm itself to crush him—a vapor, a drop of water, will 
5 ^^suffice to destroy him. But should the universe crush him, 
man would yet be nobler than that which destroys him: for he 
knows that he dies; while of the advantage which the universe 
has over him, the universe knows nothing. 


Pascal. 











01i VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


19 


MAN’S NOBILITY. 


What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! bow 
infinite in faculties! in form and moving, bow express and admirable! 
in action, bow like an angel! in apprehension, bow like a god! tbo 
beauty of tbe world! tbe paragon of animals. 

Shakspearb. 


MAN AND NATURE. 



'ESIDES these beneficient provisions, tbe forces and laws of 
N atur e were particularly adapted to Man, and Man to tboselaws 
so that be should be able to take tbe oceans, rivers and winds 
^ into bis service, and even tbe more subtle agencies, beat, light and 
^ electricity; and tbe adjustments were made with such precision that 
tbe face of tbe earth is actually fitted hardly less than bis own to re¬ 
spond to bis inner being; tbe mountains to bis sense of tbe sublime; tbe 
landscape, with its slopes, its trees, its flowers, to bis love of tbe beautiful, 
and tbe thousands of Hving species, in their diversity, to bis various 
emotions and sentiments. Tbe whole world, indeed, seems to have 
been made almost a material manifestation, in multitudinous forms, 
of tbe elements of bis own spiritual nature, that it might thereby 
give wings to tbe soul in its heavenward aspirings. It may therefore 
be said with truth that Man’s spirit was considered in tbe ordering of 
tbe earth’s structure as well as in that of bis own body. 

Prof. James D. Dana. 





20 


THE HOME BEYOND 


PROF. HUXLEY’S ONE-SIDED VIEW. 



LL vital action may be said to be the result of the molecular 
forces of the protoplasm which displays it. And if so, it 
must be true, in the same sense and to the same extent, 
the thoughts to which I am now giving utterance, and your 
thoughts regarding them, are the expression of the molecular 
changes in that matter of life which is the source of our other 

vital phenomena.After all, what do we know of that “spirit” 

over whose threatened extinction by matter a great lamentation is 
arising,.... except that it is a name for an unknown and hypothetical 
cause or condition, of states of consciousness? In other words, 
matter and spirit are but names for the imaginary substrata of groups 
of natural phenomena.” And again: “In itself it is of little mo¬ 
ment whether we express the phenomena of matter in terms of spirit, 
or the phenomena of spirit in terms of matter; matter may be 
regarded as a form of thought; thought may be regarded as a prop¬ 
arty of matter; each statement has a certain relative truth. But 
with a view to the progress of science the" materialistic terminology 
is in every way to be preferred. 

Prof. Huxley. 


MIND PRESERVES ITS INTEGRITY AMID THE DECAY 
OF THE BODY. 


Nothing can be more certain than this, that however dependent 
mind may be for its manifestations upon a material organ, it is essen¬ 
tially different in nature. Were there no presumptive evidence of 
this from the phenomena of memory, imagination, &c., it would bo 
supplied abundantly by the frequent instances of persistent integrity 
of the mind amid the utter decay of the bodily organs. “ My friends ,” 
said Anquetil, when his approaching end was announced to him by 
his physicians, “you behold a man dying full of life!” On this 
expression M. Lordat remarks: “It is indeed an evidence of the 
duplicity of the dynamism in one and the same individual; a proof 
of the union of two active causes simultaneously created, hitherto 
inseparable, and the survivor of which is the biographer of the other. 

Charles Elam, M. D. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

MAN ON THE DARWINIAN THEORY. 


21 


BISHOP RANDOLPH FOSTER, D. D. 



HE Darwinian theory is, that life in its most primitive forms 
appeared in minute particles of matter, cells, or germs; and 
thence expanded into an indefinite number of organisms, 
the highest of which is man; that each quickened seed contains 
potentially all possible existences; that the order of evolution 
is as follows—first, lichens and fungi; second, mosses, liver¬ 
worts, and alga; third, ferns, and other cryptogamia; fourth, flowers, 
plants, and trees; that animal life appears in the rudimental cell, and is 
developed, first, in the protozoa, foraminifera, etc.; next, in the radi- 
ata; third, in the mollusca; fourth, in the articulated dwellers in seas, 
and on the borders of lakes and rivers; and lastly, in the vertebrata 
—mammals, from the mouse to man. The doctrine that our immedi¬ 
ate ancestors are the simia, and our remote progenitors the protozoa, 
is not particularly flattering to human pride. It surrenders the 
differentiated spiritual nature. It positively affirms that our grand¬ 
fathers were pollywogs, and our fathers, are apes, and assign as 
reasons for the dictum, the variability of species, the struggle for 
existence among animated forms, and the survival of the fittest 
together with the fact that nature reveals a constantly ascending scale 
of being. 

Some of these reasons are formed in truth; others are manifestly 
fallacious. If all the alleged facts of Darwinism be true, its conclu. 
sions are inevitable. But there is a fatal fallacy in the fourth, 
predicate, which breaks the Darwinian chain of logic in the middle; 
where ascending divergence from the parent stock is perpetual, it only 
needs time to reach man from moss. So Darwin claims. But he 
affirms that while the variations of species are perpetual, those vari¬ 
ations run on longitudinally. This is not true to observed facta. 
Variation runs in a circle, and not along a right line. This simple 
fact shatters all systems founded on the contrary proposition. 

Geology demonstrates the truth of this principle. Darwin may 
have varied the pigeon species by careful labor, as others have varied, 
the species, horse, dog, man. But in all their variations, the species 
is the same,—horse, dog, pigeon, man. The pigeon has never been 
changed into the dog, nor the horse into man. Darwin confesses the 






22 


THE HOME BEYOND 


litter absence of evidence to the truth of his theory. It is fanciful, 
imaginative, but not scientific, not inductively true. 

Because Carlo barks in his sleep, he concludes that Carlo has 
imagination, and that his remote descendants may write tragedies 
like Shakespeare, or epics like Paradise Lost. Carlo has a hang-dog 
look when chided. Therefore, Carlo is capable of shame or moral 
feeling, and his descendants may write ethical treatise, such as 
Hopkin’s Law of Love, or the Ten Commandments. The ape cracks 
nuts with a stone, or builds nests on boughs. Therefore he is an in¬ 
ventor, and his children centuries hence may build steamships. A 
pigeon carried in darkness to a great distance, when loosed, rising in 
circles to a great height, then flies in a line to its owner. Therefore 
the pigeon is an astronomer, and some future evolution from the pig¬ 
eon may write a new Principia. 



DEFINITIONS OF MAN. 


Man is a two-legged animal without feathers.— Plato. -It is 

said, Socrates brought a cock despoiled of his feathers into Plato’s 
school, exclaiming, “Behold the man of Plato!” Again: he has been 
called “a laughing animal,” “a cooking animal,” “an animal with 
thumbs,” “a lazy animal.” A travelled Frenchman being asked to 
name one characteristic of all the races he had visited, replied, 

“Lazy.”-A tool-making animal.— Dr. Franklin —-—A cultivating 

animal.— Walker. -A poetical animal .—Hazlitt -Man is a dup¬ 

able animal. Quacks in medicine, quacks in religion, and quacks in 
politics, know this, and act upon that knowledge. There is scarcely 
any one who may not, like a trout, be “taken by tickling.”— Southey. 

-Man is an animal that makes bargains. No other animal does 

this: no dog exchanges bones with another .—Adam Smith. 



THE DIVINE ELEMENT IN EVOLUTION. 


Foe myself I will say, frankly, that evolution will no doubt be 
found to explain many of the phenomena of nature, which not only 
theologians, but experts in natural science, have misunderstood. It 
has given us and will probably fortify, new conceptions of the meth¬ 
ods of divine operation, teaching us to look upon natural progress. 








OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


23 


not as attained by sudden leaps, but by gradual ascent. It may re¬ 
quire us to dismiss our notions of frequent creations, and accept the $ 
idea of a primal creation, having inherent energies, or deposits of 
force, adequate to all natural functions and effects; subject to the in¬ 
spection and rule of the Maker and Lord, but requiring no rude 
infractions of power in the way of help or correction. In accepting 
such views of the economy of nature, however, we shall find not less, 
but more and mightier, occasions to magnify and adore the great 
Author, who so “ordereth all things after the counsel of His own 
will.” But material matter is one thing, and spiritual life is another, 
and at some point in the upward ascent from the “fire mist,” or the 
“sea slime,” there must have been an inspiration from above of intel¬ 
ligence, reason, will, which the sea slime never having had, as I just 
now said, it never could give. We may talk of “ nature’s great pro¬ 
gression .... from blind force to conscious intellect and willbut it 
is little more than rhetoric. There are gulfs which still yawn, wide 
as ever before, between inorganic and organic nature; between living 
and dead matter; between blind force and force directed by intellect; 
between animal instinct and moral feeling; between the semi-auto¬ 
matic intelligence of the brute and the pure reason of the mind of 
man. These gulfs may be bridged, but as they are not bridged, and 
it is to practice delusion upon the credulous to cover them with a 
flimsy covering of speculation or assumption, and to call such cover¬ 
ing solid ground. 

Bev. J. H. Reylance, D. D, 

The whole Creation is a mystery, and particularly that of man. 

Sir Thomas Brownf, 

A man is the whole encyclopedia of facts. The creation of a 
thousand forests in one acorn, and Egypt, Greece, Rome, Gaul, Brit¬ 
ain and America, lie folded already in the first man. 

Emerson. 

A man’s a man for a’ that. 

Burns. 











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OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


25 


Lord, what is man, whose thoughts, at times, 

Up to they seven-fold brightness climbs, 

While still his grosser instincts cling 
To earth, like other creeping things! 

So rich in words, in acts so mean; 

So high, so low; chance-swung between 

The foulness of the penal pit 

And truth’s clear sky millenium-lit. 

Whittier. 


MAN, BODY, SOUL AND SPIRIT. 


REV. F. W. ROBERTSON. 


The apostle Paul divides human nature into a three-fold divis¬ 
ions. This language of the apostle, when rendered into English, 
shows no difference whatever between “soul” and “spirit.” We say 
for instance, that the soul of man has departed from him. We also 
say that the spirit of a man has departed from him. There is no 
distinct difference between the two; but in the original two very 
different kinds of thoughts, two very different modes of conception, 
are presented by the two English words “soul” and “spirit.” When 
the apostle speaks of the body, what he means is the animal life— 
that which we share in common with beasts, birds, and reptiles; for 
our life, our sensational existence, differs but little from that of the 
lower animals. There is the same external form,—the same material 
in the blood vessels, in the nerves, and in the muscular system. Nay, 
more than that, our appetites and instincts are alike, our lower pleas¬ 
ures like their lower pleasures, our lower pain like their lower pain; 
;ur life is supported by the same means, and our animal functions 
are almost indistinguishably the same. 

But, once more, the apostle speaks of what he calls the “souL’ 
What the apostle meant by what is translated “soul” is the immortal 
part of man—the immaterial as distinguished from the material; 
those powers, in fact, which man has by nature—powers natural, 
which are yet to survive the grave. There is a distinction made in 




26 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Scripture by our Lord between these two things. “ Fear not,” says 
He, “them who can kill the body; but rather fear Him who can de¬ 
stroy both body and soul in hell.” 

We have, again, to observe, respecting this, that what the apostle 
called the “soul” is not simply distinguishable from the body, but also 
from the spirit. By the soul the apostle means our powers natural— 
the powers which we have by nature. Herein is the soul distinguish¬ 
able from the spirit. In the Epistle to the Corinthians we read, 
“But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: 
for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because 
they are spiritually discerned. But he that is spiritual judgeth all 
things.” Observe, there is a distinction drawn between the natural 
man and the spiritual. What is there translated “natural” is derived 
from precisely the same word as that which is here translated “soul.” 
So that we may read, just as correctly, “ The man under the dominion 
of the soul receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they 
are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are 
spiritually discerned. But he that is spiritual judgeth all things.’’ 
And again, the apostle, in the same Epistle to the Corinthians, writes: 
“That is not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural;” that 
is, the endowments of the soul precede the endowments of the spirit. 
You have the same truth in other places. The powers that belong to 
the spirit were not the first developed; but the powers which belong 
to the soul, that is, the power of nature. Again, in the same chap¬ 
ter, reference is made to the natural and spiritual body. “There is a 
natural body, and there is a spiritual body.” Literally, there is a 
body governed by the soul, that is, powers natural; and there is a 
body governed by the Spirit, that is, higher nature. Let, then, this 
be borne in mind, that what the apostle calls “soul” is the same as 
that which he calls, in another place, the “natural man.” These 
powers are divisible into two branches—the intellectual powers and the 
moral sense. The intellectual powers man has by nature. Man need 
not be regenerated in order to possess the power of reasoning, or in 
order to invent. The intellectual powers belong to what the apostle 
calls the “soul.” The moral sense distinguishes between right and 
wrong. The apostle tells us, in the Epistle to the Bomans, that the 
heathen—manifestly natural men—had the law “work of the written 
in their hearts; their conscience also bearing witness.” 


on VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


27 


The third division of which the apostle speaks he calls the 
“spirit;” and by the spirit he means that life in man which, in his 
natural state, is in such an embryo condition that it can scarcely be said 
to exist at all,—that which is called out into power and vitality by regen¬ 
eration, the perfections of the powers of human nature. And you will 
observe that it is not merely the instinctive life, nor the intellectual life, 
nor the moral life, but it is principally our nobler affections,—that exist¬ 
ence, that state of being, which we call love. That is the department 
of human nature which the apostle calls the spirit; and accordingly, 
when the Spirit of God was given on the day of Pentecost, you will 
remember that another power of man was called out, differing from 
what he was before. That Spirit granted on the day of Pentecost did 
subordinate to Himself, and was intended to subordinate to Himself, the 
will, the understanding, and the affection of man; but you often find 
these spiritual powers were distinguished from the natural powers, and 
existed without them. So, in the highest state of religious life, we are 
told, men prayed in the spirit. Till the spirit has subordinated the un¬ 
derstanding, the gift of God is not complete—has not done its work. It 
is abundantly evident that a new life was called out. It was not merely 
the sharpening of the intellectual powers; it was calling out powers of 
aspiration and love to God; those affections which have in them some¬ 
thing boundless,—that are not limited to this earth, but seek their 
completion in the mind of God Himself. 



MIND NOT THE RESULT OF ORGANIZATION. 


REV. JOHN LEYBURN, D. D. 



’HERE, in all the researches of physiology, has there been 
discovered the first trace of mind or thought resulting from 
combinations or laws of matter ? Men of high intellect, 
P or exquisite skill have been for ages scrutinizing and search¬ 
ing every part of the wonderful structure which constitutes 
physical man, but never yet have they discovered the contrivance 
or the forces which produce the thinking principle. They have told 
us how the eye is arranged for seeing; how the arterial and nervous 
systems, with the heart, are arranged for the circulation of the blood; 





28 


THE HOME BEYOND 


how the stomach and affiliated organs perform the offices of digestion, 
and how all the functions of animal life are provided for and carried 
on; but never yet have they pointed out the organization by which 
thought or moral principle is produced. True, they point to the 
brain as controlling all voluntary action; they tell us that it is a finely 
constructed galvanic battery, projecting the electric current through 
the nerve tissues, and that thus the hand, the foot, the lips, the 
tongue, are brought into use and controlled at pleasure. But, after 
all, this leaves the great mystery still veiled. What controls the 
brain ? W T hat sets in motion the cunningly devised battery ? W T here 
and what is that mysterious power which says to this marvelous 
mechanism, “Go!” and it goeth; “Stop!” and it stoppeth? In our 
telegraph offices there are batteries and connected wires extending 
over continents and under seas—but the battery does not work itself. 
It needs the skillful fingers directed by an intelligent mind to put it 
in play, and send abroad the messages. Without this it is dumb and 
useless. 

BODY AND SOUL. 


Is the statement that there is an enduring spirit within us, en¬ 
tirely distinct from the corporeal organization, and which the 
cessation of the heart liberates to a higher mode of existence, any 
more startling than the statement that in a drop of water, which may 
tremble and glisten on the tip of the finger, seemingly the most 
feeble thing in nature, from which the tiniest flower gently nurses its 
strength while it hangs upon its leaf, which a sunbeam may dissipate, 
contains within its tiny globe, electric energy enough to charge 800 ,- 
000 Leyden jars, energy enough to split a cathedral as though it was 
a toy ? And so that, of every cup of water we drink, each atom is a 
thunder storm ? Is the idea of spiritual communication and inter¬ 
course by methods far transcending our present powers of sight, 
speech and hearing, beset with more intrinsic difficulties than the idea 
of conversing by a wire with a man in St. Louis as quickly as with a 
man by your side, or of making a thought girdle the globe in a 
twinkling ? And when we say that the spiritual world may be all 
around us, though our senses take no impression of it, what is there 
to embarrass the intellect in accepting it, when we know that within 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN 


29 


the vesture of the air which we cannot grasp, there is the realm of 
light, the immense ocean of electricity, and the constant currents of 
magnetism, all of them playing the most wonderful parts in the 
economy of the world, each of them far more powerful than the 
ocean, the earth and the rocks—neither of them comprehensible by 
our minds, while the existence of two of them is not apprehensible 
by any sense ? 

Rev. Thos. Starr King. 
—— 

NATURE AND MAN. 

JOHN B. GOUGH. 


Come with me to the Yosemite Valley; yonder stands EJ Capi- 
tan—the atmosphere so clear, it seems as though you might strike 
it with a stone. Approach nearer; how it looms up; how it grows 
and widens; how grand! See yonder those shrubs in the crevice— 
shrubs ? They are trees, a hundred feet in height, three feet and 
more in diameter. Do you see that bend in the face of the rock ? 
That is a fissure, 75 feet wide. Nearer yet, still pearer. It seems as 
if you might touch it now with your finger. Stand still under the 
shadow of El Capitan. A plumb line from the summit falls fifty 
feet from the base. Now look up, up, up, 3,600 feet—two-thirds of 
a mile—right up. How grand and sublime! Your lips quiver, your 
nerves thrill, your eyes fill with tears, and you understand in some 
degree your own littleness. “The inhabitants of the earth are but 
as grasshoppers.” How small I am! I could not climb up fifty feet 
on the face of that rock, and there it towers above me. Yonder is 
the great South Dome, rising sheer up 6,000 feet—more than a mile, 
seamed and seared by the storms of ages, but anchored in the valley 
beneath. There are the Three Brothers, there the Cathedral rocks 
and spires, there the Sentinel Dome and the Sentinel Rock. How 
magnificent! See yonder the wonderful Yosemite Falls leaping 
through a gorge eighteen feet before it strikes, coming down like sky¬ 
rockets, exploding as they fall; striking, it leaps 400 feet, and again 
it leaps 600 feet. More than half a mile the water pours over. What 
a dash, what a magnificent anthem ascending to the great Creator! 
Now look around you in every direction, and you feel the littleness of 




30 


THE HOME BEYOND 


man. Oh! I am but as the dust in the balance, but as the small dust 
in the balance; but God created man in His own image, and breathed 
into his nostrils the breath of life, and made him—not gave him— 
but made him a living soul; therefore I am a man, a living man, but that 
is a dead rock. I am a living man. The elements shall melt with 
fervent heat, the world be removed like a cottage, the milky way shall 
shut its two awful arms and hush its dumb prayer forever, but I shall 
live, for I am a man with the fire of God in me and a spark of im¬ 
mortality that will never go out. The universe, grand and magnificent 
and sublime as it is, is but the nursery to man’s infant soul, and the 
child is worth more than the nursery; therefore, I, a living, breathing, 
thinking, hoping man, with a reason capable of understanding, in 
some degree, the greatness of the Almighty, a mind capable of eternal 
development, and a heart capable of loving Him, am worth more 
than all God’s material universe, for I am a man with a destiny before 
me as high as heaven and as vast as eternity. 



MAN REDEEMABLE. 


With other ministrations thou, O Nature! 

Healest thy wandering and distempered child : 

Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, 

Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets,— 

Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters 
Till he relent, and can no more endure 
To be a jarring and a dissonant thing 
Amid this general dance and minstrelsy; 

But, bursting into tears, wins back his way, 

His angry spirit healed and harmonized 
By the benignant touch of love and beauty. 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 



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LIFE A JOURNEY. 


Life is a journey, the end is nearing. It is a race, the goal will 
soon be reached. It is a voyage, the port will soon be in sight. Time 
is but a narrow isthmus between two eternities. You are going surely 
How many things you have already left behind!—the old home, 
friends, parents, scenes of childhood and early years. How much of 
the way you have passed over! You will never return to the place 
from which you started. You are going on, and on, and away from 
all your early years. It is a startling thought, that our business will 
soon be left behind; that our work will be done, and that we shall 
leave this stage of being—leave it forever—our homes and cares, and 
all the interests that engage us here, and never more come back. It 
is an amazing thought that we, if we are Christians, shall soon be in 
heaven. Think of it! Time and all its opportunities passed forever! 
The suns and moons and stars all behind us; springs and summers 
and autumns all gone; the sights and sounds of earth all passed 
away! Soon—very soon—shall we be in heaven. We shall see God, 
we shall behold Christ in His glory, we shall look upon the angels. 
Mothers will be searching for their children, and husbands and wives 
will find each other; and all hands, parted in Christ, will be clasped 
again. It is like coming into port after an ocean voyage. The shining 
shore-line, how it grows on the waiting eye! The joy will be like 
that with which the Crusaders first saw Jerusalem. 

Rev. C. L Goodell, D. D. 


33 







34 


THE HOME BEYOND 


EVOLUTION AND LIFE. 



ITHOUT doubt, within certain limits, evolution is law, but 
it can neither explain the mystery of life nor of conscience. 


Conscience was created, or else it was in the protoplasm. 
If in the latter, then I worship protoplasm. But clear-eyed, 


dispassionate science, studying second causes, cannot thus 
I i argue. Christianity, driven out of the door, will come in at the 
window. I have no fear of a long reign of atheism. In the old 


effete communities of the East there may linger traces of it, but not 


in rich, restless, greedy America, where the air is full of oxygen; 
where the mills of the gods grind fast, as well as fine. What we 
need is a vivid sense of the personality of God—wise, just and good. 
Right is what He commands; wrong what He forbids. Man is to be 
recognized as His offspring, and history a record of the working out 
of His plan. To be alone with God is to be in the majority, as 
Mahomet said to one who fled with him and remarked, “We are but 
two:” “Nay, we are three , for God is here.” 


Prof. R. D. Hitchcock, D. D. 


Why should I wish to linger in the wild. 

When Thou art waiting, Father, to receive Thy child ? 




MATERIAL PROCESSES AND LIFE. 


FELIX ADLER. 



'R. John Stuart Mill acknowledges that “the evidence is 
well-nigh complete that all thought and feeling has some 


1 ac ^ on the bodily organism for its immediate coincident 

and accompaniment, and that the specific variations* and 
especially the different degrees of complication of the nervous 
Y and cerebral organism, correspond to differences in develop¬ 
ment of our mental faculties.” 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


35 


The prodigious difficulties in the way of the study of the brain 
may long retard the progress of the investigator, but for the purpose 
of our argument we are at liberty to assume whatever is within the 
limits of possible achievement. "VVe may suppose that physiology 
Will succeed so far that the brain will be accurately and completely 
mapped out, and that the motion of the atoms upon which the 
thousand varying modes of thought and feeling depend, will be known 
and measured. In anticipating such results, we have reached the 
utmost tenable position of materialism. 

But now to our surprise we discover that all of this being allowed, 
the ultimate question, what is soul, remains still unsolved and as 
insoluble as ever. The unvarying coincidence of certain modes of 
soul with certain material processes may be within the range of proof, 
but what cannot be proven is, that these material processes explain the 
psychic phenomena. 

If it is urged that the same difficulty presents itself in the ex¬ 
planation of the most ordinary occurrences, this objection is based 
upon a misapprehension of the point at issue. 

The scientists cannot show why heat should be convertible into 
motion, but how it is thus transformed is easy to demonstrate, and 
the exact mechanical equivalent of heat has been calculated. But 
how certain motions of atoms in the brain should generate, not heat, 
but consciousness, but thought and love, is past all conception. There 
are here two different orders of facts, having no common principle to 
which they could both be reduced. There is an impassable gulf 
between them which can in nowise be bridged over. 

Nor would it avail us to endow the atom itself with the promise 
and potency of intellect; we should thereby throw back the issue a 
step further, and disguise the problem whose existence it were better 
to plainly acknowledge. The broad fact of consciousness therefore 
remains unexplained and inexplicable as before. Arrived at tl?\ 
limit, science itself pause and refuses to pass further. 

ATOMS AND CONSCIOUSNESS. 


The eminent physiologist, Dubois Reymond, denies that the 
connection between certain motions of certain atoms in the brain, and 
what he calls, the primal, undefinable and undeniable facts of con¬ 
sciousness, is at all conceivable. Professor Tyndall in his address on 



36 


THE HOME BEYOND 


“ The scope and limits of Scientific Materialism,” explains his views 
with similar precision. “Were onr minds so expanded, strengthened 
and illuminated as to enable us to see and feel the very molecules of 
the brain; were we capable of following all their motions, all their 
groupings, all their electric discharges, if such there be; and were 
we imtimately acquainted with the corresponding states of thought 
and feeling, we should be as far as ever from the solution 
of the problem. How are these physical processes connected 
by and with the facts of conciousness ? I do not think the materialist 
is entitled to say that his molecular groupings and his molecular 
motions explain everything, in reality they explain nothing. * 

* * The problem of body and soul is as insoluble in its 

modern form as it was in the pre-scientific ages.” 

Felix Adler. 



LIFE ONE GREAT RITUAL. 



ND as the vesper hymn of Time precedes 
The starry matins of Eternity 
|f. And daybreak of existence in the Heavens,— 

9 0/41 To know this, is to know we shall depart 
Into the storm-surrounding calm on high, 

The sacred cirque, the all-central infinite 
Of that self-blessedness wherein abides 
Our God, all kind, all loving, all beloved;— 

To feel life one great ritual, and its laws 
Writ in the vital rubric of the blood, 

Flow in obedience and flow out command, 

In sealike circulation; and be here 
Accepted as a gift by ITifn, who gives 
An empire as an alms, nor counts it aught, 

So long as all His creatures joy in Him, 

The great Rejoicer of the Universe, 

Whom all the boundless spheres of Being bless. 

Philip James Bailey. 


-SirRitS” 








OR VIEWS OF jdEAVEN. 
THE PERIL OF LIFE. 


MRS. SOUTHEY. 


Oh, fear not thou to die! 

Far rather fear to live,—for life 
Hath thousand snares by faith to try, 

By peril, pain and strife. 

Brief is the work of death, 

But life! the spirit shrinks to see, 

How full ere Heaven recalls the breath, 
The cup of woe may be. 

Oh, fear not thou to die! 

No more, to suffer or to sin; 

No snares without thy faith to try, 

No traitor heart within. 

But fear, oh rather fear, 

The gay, the light, the changeful scene 
The flattering smiles that greet thee here, 
From Heaven thy heart to wean. 

Fear lest, in evil hour, 

Thy pure and holy hope o’ercome, 

By clouds that in the horizon lower, 

Thy spirit feel the gloom 
Which over earth and Heaven 
The covering throws of fell despair, 

And deems itself the unforgiven, 
Predestined child of care. 

Oh, fear not thou to die! 

To die, and be that blessed one 
Who in the bright and beauteous sky 
May feel his conflict done;— 

May feel that never more 
The tear of grief, of shame, shall come 
P"or thousand wanderings from the Power 
Who loved and called him home. 



NOT ONE LIFE DESTROYED. 


O, yet we trust that somehow good 
Will be the final goal of ill, 

To pangs of nature, sins of will, 
Defects of doubt and taints of blood; 






38 


THE HOME BEYOND 


That nothing walks with aimless feet; 

That not one life shall be destroyed, 

Or cast as rubbish to the void, 

When God hath made the pile complete; 

That not a worm is cloven in vain, 

That not a moth with vain desire 
Is shrivelled in a fruitless ire, 

Or but subserves another’s gain. 

Behold! we know not any thing; 

I can but trust that good shall fall 
At last,—far oft',—at last, to all, 

And every winter change to spring. 

So runs my dream: but what am I ? 

An infant crying in the night: 

An infant crying for the light: 

And with no language but a cry. 

Alfred Tennyson. 



LIVE AND HELP LIVE. 


ALICE CAREY. 


Mighty in faith and hope, why art thou sad ? 

Sever the green withes, look up and be glad! 

See all around thee, below and above, 

The beautiful, beautiful gifts of God’s love! 

What though our hearts beat with death’s sullen waves? 
What though the green sod is broken with graves? 

The sweet hopes that never shall fade from their bloom, 
Make their dim birth-chamber down in the torno! 

Parsee or Christian-man, bondman or free, 

Loves and humilities still a.ye for thee; 

Some little good every day to achieve 
Some slighted spirit no longer tcs gjwvro 

In tne tents of the desert, alo^ om tl.e w>e«, 

On the far-away hills with the starry Cha?de6,j 
Condemned and in prison, dishonored, reviled, 

God’s arm is around thee, and thou art His child. 

Mine be the lip ever truthful and bold; 

Mine be the heart never careless nor cold; 

A faith humbly trustful, a life free from blame— 

All else is unstable as flax in the flame. 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


39 


And while the soft skies are so starry and blue; 

And while the wide earth is so fresh with God’s dew, 
Though all around me the sad sit and sigh, 

I will be glad that I live and must die. 



LIFE THE TIME FOR WORK. 



HAT are we set on earth for? Say, to toil; 

Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines 
For all the heat o’ the day, till it declines, 

And death’s mild curfew shall from work assoil. 

God did anoint thee with His odorous oil 
To wrestle, not to reign; and He assigns 
All thy tears over, like pure crystallines, 

For younger fellow-workers of the soil 
To wear for amulets. So others shall 
Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand, 

From thy hand and thy heart and thy brave cheer, 

And God’s grace fructify through thee to all. 

The least flower, with a brimming cup may stand, 

And share its dew-drop with another near. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 


THE PRESENT LIFE IN VIEW OF THE FUTURE. 


Oh, if we are not bitterly deceived— 

If this familiar spirit that communes 
With yours this hour—that has the power to search 
All things but its own compass —is a spark 
Struck from the burning essence of its God— 

If, as we dream, in every radiant star 

We see a shining gate through which the soul, 

In its degree of being, will ascend— 

If, when these weary organs drop away, 

We shall forget their uses and commune 
With angels and each other, as the stars 
Mingle their light, in silence and in love— 

What is this fleshy fetter of a day 

That we should bind it with immortal flowers! 

How do we ever gaze upon the sky, 

And watch the lark soar up till he is lost, 

And turn to our poor perishing dreams away, 
Without one tear for our imprisoned wings! 


N. P Willis. 
















































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
LONGEVITY OF STUDIOUS AND BUSY MEN’. 


41 


CHARLES ELAM, M. D. M. R. C. P. 



TISSOT states that Gorgias, the rhetorician, lived to the 
age of one hundred and eight years, “ -without discontin¬ 
ue^ uing his studies, and without any infirmity.” Isocrates 
wrote his “ Pan-Athenseai ” when he was ninety-four, and 
lived to ninety-eight. The above writer also mentions the 
case of “ one of the greatest physicians in Europe, who, although 
he had studied very hard all his lifetime, and is now almost seventy, 
wrote me word not long since that he still studied generally fourteen 
hours every day, and yet enjoyed the most perfect health.” 

Epimenides, the seventh of the “wise men,” lived, it is supposed, 
to the age of one hundred and fifty- four. Herodicus, a very distin¬ 
guished physician and philosopher, the master of Hippocrates, lived 
to the age of one hundred. Hippocrates himself, whose genuine 
writings alone would be sufficient to testify to a life of arduous study, 
lived to the age of ninety-nine. Galen wrote, it is said, three hundred 
volumes; what now remains of his works occupy, in the edition of 
1858, five folio volumes. He lived to near one hundred years. Lewis 
Cornaro wrote seven or eight hours daily for a considerable period of 
his life, and lived to the age of one hundred, in spito of a feeble 
constitution originally. 

Theophrastus wrote two hundred distinct treatises, and lived to 
the age of one hundred and seven. Zeno, the founder of the Stoic 
school, lived to the age of ninety-eight years ; and, in the full posses¬ 
sion of his faculties, then committed suicide, having received, as he 
supposed, a warning by a wound of the thumb that it was time for 
him to depart Democritus was so devoted to study and meditation 
that he put out his eyes, it is said, that external objects might not 
distract his attention. He died aged one hundred and nine years. 
Sophocles died aged ninety ona Xenophon, Diogenes, and Oarneadee 
each lived to eighty-eight years. Euripedes died aged eighty-five ; 
Polybius, eighty-one; Juvenal, above eighty; Pythagoras, eighty; 
Quintillian, eighty ; Chrysippus died of laughter, at eighty. The 
poet Pindar died aged eighty ; Plato, aged eighty-ona Socrates, in 







42 


THE HOME BEYOND 


the full possession of his faculties, was judicially murdered at seventy, 
one. Anaxagoras, to whom we have before alluded, died at seventy* 
two. Aristotle died at sixty-three. Thucydides was eighty. 

It would be difficult to select twenty-five names which exerted a 
much greater influence upon literature, philosophy and history than 
these in old times. Many of them are known to have been most 
voluminous writers, many of them most profound thinkers. These 
were not the days of hand-books and vade-mecums; those who wanted 
information or mental cultivation had to work for it. Yet the average 
age of these twenty-five men is exactly ninety years. It is much to 
be questioned whether the united ages of twenty-five of the most 
distinguished farmers that the world has ever produced would amount 
to two thousand two hundred and fifty years. The list might easily 
be enlarged greatly by such men as Seneca and Pliny, who came to 
untimely deaths by accident or tyranny, and who promised to live as 
long as the oldest, in the course of nature. 

Yet these old writers, commentators, and others were apparently 
a hardy race,—they were generally long-lived. Beza, lived in the 
perfect enjoyment of his faculties up to the age of eighty-six. The 
learned Eichard Bentley died at eighty-one. Neander was seventy- 
eight; Scaliger, sixty-nine; Heyne, eighty-four; Parr, eighty; Pighius, 
eighty-four; Yossius, seventy-three; Hobbes, ninety-one,—at death. 

Dr. Madden, the able author of the “Infirmities of Genius,” 
has constructed some most instructive tables relative to the longevity 
of men distinguished for their intellectual pursuits. He says that 
each list contains twenty names, in which no other attention has been 
given to the selection than that which eminence suggested, without 
any regard to the ages of those who presented themselves to notice.” 

An analysis of the tables gives the following averages of life for 
the various classes:— 

A fear e Average. 


Twenty natural philosophers. 1504 75 

Twenty moral philosphers. 1417 70 

Twenty sculptors and painters. 1412 70 

Twenty authors on law, &c. 1394 60 

Twenty medical authors. 1368 68 

Twenty authors on revealed religion.. 1350 67 

Twenty philologists. 1323 66 

Twenty musical composers. 1284 64 

Twenty novelists and miscellaneous authors. 1257 62^ 

Twenty dramatists. 1249 62 

Twenty authors on natural religion. 1245 62 

Twenty poets. 1144 57 














OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


43 


This list does not by any means give too high an average of life 
for literary characters. Many of the oldest are omitted from the 
calculation, because, though equally laborious, their eminence was 
not quite so great; and, again, many are inserted because eminent, 
who died young, obviously not from causes connected with mental 
application. This is particularly illustrated among the poets by the 
cases of Byron and Burns, whose deaths certainly were not justly 
to be attributed to the nature of their mental habits. Amongst artists, 
also, Fuseli (eighty-four), Nollekens (eighty-six), Kneller (seventy 
live), and Albert Durer (eighty-seven); are not mentioned. M. Lordat, 
in his “Mental Dynamics,” gives many remarkable instances of 
intellectual pursuits being carried on to an extremely advanced age— 
“ for instance, M. des Quersonnieres, one hundred and sixteen years 
of age, now residing in Paris, an accomplished poet, remarkable for 
his powers of conversation, and full of vivacity.” He mentions also 
another poet, M. Leroy, aged one hundred years. Fontenelle, consid¬ 
ered the most universal genius that Europe has produced, for forty- 
two years Secretary to the Academy of Sciences in Paris, lived with 
unimpaired faculties to the age of one hundred years. Father 
Sirmond, called by Naude “ an inexhaustible treasury of ecclesiastical 
lore,” lived to the age of ninety-three. Hutton, the learned geologist 
and cosmogonist, died at ninety-two. 

We will now give a table of distinguished men, with their ages 
independent of classification or chronology,—such names as are 
sufficiently known to the world to preclude the necessity of giving an 
account of their labors:— 


Bacon(Roger).-. 

Age. 
. 78 

Herschel. 

Age. 
. 84 

Buffon. 

. 81 

Laplace. 

. 77 

Copernicus. 

. 7 o 

Linnaius. 

. 72 

Galileo. 

. 78 

Metastasio. 

. 84 

Lowenhoeck. 

. 9 i 

Milton. 

.66 

Newton. 

.84 

Bacon (Lord). 

. 65 

Whiston. 


Hobbes. 

.91 

Young. 

.84 

Locke. 

. 72 

Ferguson (Adam). 

. 92 

Stewart (D.). 

. 75 

Kant. 

.. 80 

Voltaire. 

.84 

Reid (T.j. 

. 86 

Cumberland. 

. 80 

Goethe. 

.82 

Southern (Thomas).... 

. 86 

Crebillon. 


Coke (Lord). 

. 85 

Goldoni. 

.85 

Wilmot. 

. 83 

Bentham. 

. 85 

Rabelais. 


Mansfield. 

. 88 

Harvey. 

. 81 

LeSage. 

.80 

Heberden. 

. 92 

Wesley. (John). 

. 88 

Michael Angelo. 







































44 


THE HOME BEYOND 



Age. 


Age. 

Hoffman. 

.83 

Handel. 

.75 

Pinel . 

. 84 

Haydn. 

. 77 

Claude... . 

.. 82 

Ruysch. 

. 93 

Titian. 

. 96 

Winslow. 

. 9 1 

Franklin. 

... 85 

Morgagni. 

. 89 

Halley. 

. 86 

Cardan. 

. 76 

Rollin. 

. 80 

Fleury (Cardinal). 

. 90 

Waller. 

.82 

Anquetil. 

. 84 

Chalmers. 

. 83 

Swift. 

. 7 » 

South (Dr.). 

. 83 

Watts (Dr.). 


Johnson (Dr.). 

. 75 

Watt (James). 

. 83 

Cherubini. 

. 82 

Erasmus. 



This list is taken entirely at random, and might be almost in* 
definitely enlarged; but these illustrations suffice. 

—— 

LONG LIFE AND HARD STUDY 


Devotion to intellectual pursuits and to studies, even of the most 
severe and unremitting character, is not incompatible with extreme 
longevity, terminated by a serene and unclouded sunset. Dr. Johnson 
composed his “Dictionary” in seven years! And during that time he 
wrote also the Prologue to the opening of Drury Lane Theatre; the 
“Vanity of Human Wishes;” the tragedy of “Irene;” and the 
“Rambler;”—an almost incomprehensible effort of mind. He lived 
to the age of seventy-five. When Fontenelle’s brilliant career ter¬ 
minated, and he was asked if he felt pain, he replied, “ I only feel a 
difficulty of existing.” 

EXCITEMENT AND SHORT LIFE. 



HE deadliest foe to man’s longevity is an unnatural and 
unreasonable excitement. Every man is bom with a certain 
' * stock of vitality, which cannot be increased, but which may 
2 be husbanded or expended as rapidly as he deems best. Within 
certain limits he has a choice, to live fast or slow, to five abstemi¬ 
ously or intensely, to draw his little amount of life over a single 
space, or condense it into a narrow one; but when his stock is exhausted, 
he has no more. He who lives abstemiously, who avoids all stimulants, 
takes light exercise, never overtasks himself, feeds his mind and heart 
































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


45 


cm no exciting material, has no debilitating pleasure, lets nothing ruffle 
his temper, keeps his “accounts with God and man squared up,” is 
sure, barring accidents, to spin out his life to the longest limit, which 
it is possible to attain; wliile he who lives intensely, who feeds on 
high-seasoned food, whether material or mental, fatigues his body or 
brain by hard labor, exposes himself to inflammatory diseases, seeks 
continual excitement, gives loose reign to his passion, frets at every 
trouble, and enjoys little repose, is burning the candle at both ends, 
and is sure to shorten his days 

THE BLESSINGS OF A SHORT LIFE, 


REV. T. DE WITT TALMAGE, D. D. 



E all spend much time in panegyric of longevity. We con¬ 
sider it a great thing to live to be an octogenarian. If any 
one (j| eg j n youth we say, “What a pity!” Dr. Muhlenbergh 
> in old age, said that the hymn written by him in early 
life by his own hand, no more expressed his sentiment when 


it said: 


“ I would not live alway.” 


If one be pleasantly circumstanced he never wants to go. William 
Cullen Bryant, the great poet, at eighty-two years of age standing in 
my house in a festal group, reading “Thanatopsis ” without spectacles, 
was just as anxious to live as when at eighteen years of age he wrote 
that immortal threnody. Cato feared at eighty years of age that he 
would not live to learn Greek. Monaldesco at a hundred and fifteen 
years, writing the history of his time, feared a collapse. Theophrastus 
writing a book at ninety years of age was anxious to live to complete 
it. Thurlow Weed at about eighty-six years of age found life as 
great a desirability as when he snuffed out his first politician. Albert 
Barnes so well prepared for the next world at seventy said he would 
rather stay here. So it is all the way down. I suppose that the last 
time that Methuseleh was out of doors in a storm he was afraid of 
getting his feet wet lest it shorten his days. 

Indeed, I sometime ago preached a sermon on the blessings ol 
longevity, but in this, the last day of 1882, and when many are filled 
with sadness at the thought that another chapter of their fife is closing. 






46 


THE HOME BEYOND 


and that they have three hundred and sixyt-five days less to live, I 
propose to preach to you about the blessings of an abbreviated earthly 
existence. 

If I were an agnostic I would say a man is blessed in proportion 
to the number of years he can stay on terra firma, because after that 
he falls off the docks, and if he is ever picked out of the depths it is 
only to be set up in some morgue of the universe to see if any body 
will claim him. If I thought God made man only to last forty or 
fifty or a hundred years, and then he was to go into annihilation, I 
would say his chief business ought to be to keep alive and even in 
good weather to be very cautious, and to carry an umbrella and take 
overshoes, and life preservers, and bronze armor, and weapons of 
defence lest he fall off into nothingness and obliteration. 

But, my friends, you are not agnostics. You believe in immortality 
and the eternal residence of the righteous in heaven, and therefore I 
remark that an abbreviated earthly existence is to be desired, and is a 
blessing because it makes ones life-work very compact. 

BUILDING UP LIFE. 


m 




INIEST insects build up loftiest mountains. Broad bands 
of solid rock, which undergird the earth, have been welded 
by the patient, constant toil of invisible creatures, working on 
eT through the ages, unhasting, unresting, fulfilling their Maker’s 
will. On the shores of primeval oceans, watched only by the 
patient stars, these silent workmen have been building for us the 
structure of the world. And thus the obscure work of unknown 
nameless ages appears at last in the sunlight, the adorned and noble 
theatre of that life of man, which, of all that is done in this universe, 
is fullest before God of interest and hope. It is thus, too, in life. 
The quiet moments build the years. The labors of the obscure and 
unremembered hours edify that palace of the soul, in which it is to 
abide, and fabricate the organ whereby it is to work and express 
itself through eternity. 




J. B. Brown. 










OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
LIFE—NEW AND OLD. 


47 



HEEE have been human hearts, constituted just like ours, for 
six thousand years. The same stars rise and set upon this 
^ globe that rose upon the plains of Shinar or along the 


Egyptian Nile; and the same sorrows rise and set in every age. 
All that sickness can do, all that disappointment can effect, all 
that blighted love, disappointed ambition, thwarted hope, ever 
did, they do still. Not a tear is wrung from eyes now, that, for the 
same reason, has not been wept over and over again in long succession 
since the hour that the fated pair stepped from paradise, and gave 
their posterity to a world of sorrow and suffering. The head learns new 
things; but the heart forevermore practices old experiences. Therefore 
our life is but a new form of the way men have lived from the 
beginning. 

H. W. Beecher. 



LIFE AND DEATH. 

Life makes the soul dependent on the dust, 

Death gives her wings to mount above the spheres. 

Through chinks, styled organs, dim life peeps at light, 

Death bursts th’ involving cloud, and all is day; 

All eye, all ear, the disembodied power. 

Death has feigned evils, Nature shall not feel. 

Life, ill substantial, Wisdom cannot shun. 

Is not the mighty mind,—that son of Heaven— 

By tyrant Life , dethroned, imprisoned, pained? 

By Death enlarged, ennobled, deified? 

Death but entombs the body; Life the soul!.... 

Death is the crown of life. 

Death wounds to cure: we fall, we rise, we reign! 

Spring from our fetters, fasten in the skies. 

Where blooming Eden withers in our sight, 

Death gives us more than was in Eden lost. 

This king of terrors is the prince of peace. 

When shall I die to vanity, pain, death? 

When shall I die ?—When shall I live forever? 

Edward Young. 









48 


THE HOME BEYOND 
LIFE A RIVER. 


Pliny compares life to a river. The river, small and clear in it« 
origin, gushes forth from rocks, falls into deep glens, and wantons 
and meanders through a wild and picturesque country; nourishing 
only the uncultivated tree or flower by its dew or spray. In this, in 
its state of infancy and youth, it may be compared to the human 
mind, in which fancy, and strength of imagination, are predominant: 
it is more beautiful than useful. When the different rills or torrents 
join, and descend into the plain, it becomes slow and stately in its 
motions, and able to bear upon its bosom the stately barge. In this 
mature state, it is deep, strong, and useful. As it flows on towards 
the sea, it loses its force and its motion, and at last, as it were, becomes 
lost and mingled with the mighty abyss of waters. 

Sir Humphry Lav*. 

^ - £® 

@5--i© 

LIFE’S DISCIPLINE A TRAINING FOR HEAVEN. 


SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. 

All speaks of change: the renovated forms 
Of long-forgotten things arise again. 

The light of suns, the breath of angry storms, 

The everlasting motions of the main,— 

These are but engines of the Eternal will, 

The One Intelligence, whose potent sway 
Has ever acted, and is acting still, 

Whilst stars, and worlds, and systems all obey; 
Without Whose power, the whole of mortal things 
Were dull, inert, an unharmonious band, 

Silent as are the harp’s untuned strings 

W ithout the touches of the poet’s hand. 

A sacred spark, created by His breath, 

The immortal mind of man His image bears; 
A spirit living ’midst the forms of death, 

Oppressed, but not subdued, by mortal cares; 

A germ, preparing in the winter’s frost 

To rise, and bud, and blossom in the spring; 
An unfledged eagle by the tempest tossed, 

Unconscious of his future strength of wing; 
The child of trial, to mortality 

And all its changeful influences given. 

On the green earth decreed to move and die, 

And yet, by such a fate, % Tepared for heaven! 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


49 


LIFE A STREAM. 

Life bears us on like the stream of a mighty river. Our boat at 
first glides down the narrow channel, through the playful murmuring 
of the little brook and the winding of its grassy borders. The trees 
shed their blossoms over young heads: the flowers on the brink seem 
to offer themselves to the young hands. We are happy in hope, and 
we grasp eagerly at the beauties around us; but the stream hurries 
on, and still our hands are empty. Our course in youth and manhood 
is along a wilder and deeper flood, amid objects more striking and 
magnificent. We are animated at the moving pictures, and enjoy¬ 
ments and industry passing us; we are excited at some short-lived 
disappointment. The stream bears us on; and our joys and griefs 
are alike left behind us. We may be shipwrecked; but we cannot be 
delayed. Whether rough or smooth, the river hastens to its home, 
till the roar of the ocean is in our ears, and the tossing of the waves 
is beneath our feet, and the land lessens from our eyes, and the floods 
are lifted up around us; and we take our leave of earth and its 
inhabitants until, of our future voyage, there is no witness save the 
Infinite and EternaL 

Bishop Hebeb. 

LIFE IS PASSING. 


®gj||j|?HIS world is turning on its axis once in four and twenty hours; 
fM| and, besides that, it is moving round the sun in the three 
hundred and sixty-five days of the year. So that we are all 
moving; we are flitting along through space. And as we are 
l S» travelling through space, so we are moving through time at an 
incalculable rate. Oh! what an idea it is could we grasp it! We 
are all being carried along as if by a giant angel, with broad out¬ 
stretched wings; which he flaps to the blast, and, flying before the 
lightning, makes us ride on the wind. The whole multitude of us 
are hurrying along,—whither, remains to be decided by the test of 
our faith and the grace of God; but certain it is, we are all travelling. 
Your pulses each moment beat the funeral marches to the tomb. 
You are chained to the chariot of rolling time. There is no bridling 
the steeds, or leaping from the chariot; you must be constantly in 
motion. 


Spurgeon. 






( 


% 




THE PASTOR’S COLLEGE (SPURGEON’S), LONDON* 



















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































OR VI lit WS OF HEAVEN. 

JOHN WESLEY’S OLD AGE. 


51 



AID the happy old man, when at the age of seventy-seven, 
“I do not remember to have felt lowness of spirits for one 
quarter of an hour since I was born.” Of course, it is 
presumed he means that causeless depression which is usually 
the result of indolence. At the age of eighty-six he writes: 
“ Saturday, March 21st, I had a day of rest, only preaching 


morning and evening.” 

It is wonderful to think that at nearly ninety years of age he 
could continue to make any effort to preach, but he did so, and he 
continued as a tower of strength to the companies he had formed and 
called together. But he outlived most of his early contemporaries, 
friends and foes. He stood in the pulpit of St. Giles’, in London; he 
had preached there fifty years before, prior to his departure for 
America. “Arethey not passed as a watch in the night?” he Writes. 
Old families that used to entertain him had passed away. “ Their 
houses,” says he, “know neither me nor them any more.” His later 
letters show that fervid sentiment, for woman known only to loftiest 
minds and hearts; this again is entwined with beautiful simple regards 
for children. When he ascended the pulpit of Rathby Church, where he 
was often allowed to preach, a child sat in his way on the stairs, he took 
it in his arms and kissed it, and placed it tenderly on the same spot. 
Crabb Robinson heard him at Colchester; he was then eighty-seven; 
on each side of him stood a minister supporting him; his feeble voice 
was barely audible. Robinson, then a boy, destined to enter into his 
ninety-second year, says: “ It formed a picture never to be forgotten.” 
He goes on to say: “It went to the heart, and I never saw anything 
like it in after life.” Three days after he preached at Lowestoft, and 
there he had another distinguished hearer, the poet Crabbe. Here, 
also, he was supported into the pulpit by a minister on either side; 
but what really touched the poet naturally and deeply was Wesley’s 
adaptation and appropriation of some lines of Anacreon. The poet 
speaks of his reverent appearance, his cheerful air, and the beautiful 
cadence with which he repeated the lines:— 

“ Oft am I by women told, 

Poor Anacreon, thou growest old; 

See, thine hairs are falling all, 






52 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE 


Whether I grow old or no, 

By these signs I do not know; 

By this I need not be told, 

’Tis time to live if I grow old.” 

SOONER WE ^GO THE BETTER. 


REV. T. DE WITT TALMAGE, D. D. 



WWW i ‘ HAT fools we all are to prefer the circumference to the 
centre. What a dreadful thing it would be if we should 
s $ k e suddenly ushered from this wintry world into the May time 
orc p ar( j 9 0 f heaven, and if our pauperism of sin and sorrow 
should be suddenly broken up by a presentation of -n emperor’s 
castle surrounded by parks with springing fountains, and paths 


up and down which angels of God walk two and two. 

We are all like persons standing on the cold steps of the national 
picture gallery in London, under umbrella in the rain, afraid to go in 
amid the Turners and the Titians, and the Raphaels. I come to them 
and say: “Why don’t you go inside the gallery?” “Oh,” they say, 
“we don’t know whether we can get in.” I say: “Don’t you see the 
door is open?” “Yes,” they say, “but we have been so long on these 
cold steps, we are so attached to them we don’t like to leave.” “But,” 
I say, “it is .so much brighter and more beautiful in the gallery, you 
had better go in.” “No,” they say, “ we know exactly how it is out 
here, but we don’t know exactly how it is inside.” 

So we stick to this world as though we preferred cold drizzle to 
warm habitation, discord to cantata, sack-cloth to royal purple—as 
though we preferred a piano with four or five of the keys out of tune 
to an instrument fully attuned—as though earth and heaven had 
exchanged apparel, and earth had taken on bridal array and heaven 
had gone into deep mourning, all its waters stagnant, all its harps 
broken, all chalices cracked at the dry wells, all the lawns sloping to 
the river ploughed with graves of dead angels under the furrow. Oh, 
I want to break up my own infatuation and I want to break up your 
infatuation with this world. I tell you, if we are ready, and if our 
work is done, the sooner we go the better, and if there are blessings 
in longevity I want you to know right well there are also blessings in 
an abbreviated earthly existence. 

“The rougher the way, the shorter the stay; 

The tempests that rise, shall gloriously 
Hurry our souls to the skies.” 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
BREVITY OF LIFE. 


FRANCIS QUARLES. 


Behold! 

How short a span 
Was long enough of old 
To measure out the life of man! 

In those well-tempered days his time was then 
Survey d, cast up, and found but threescore years and ten. 

Alas ! 

And what is that? 

They come, and slide, and pass, 

Before my pen can tell thee what 
The posts of time are swift, which, having run 
Their sev’n short stages o’er, their short-liv’d task is done. 

OUR DAYS 

Begun, we lend 
To sleep, to antic plays 
And toys, until the first stage end: 

Twelve waning moons, twice five times told, we give 
To unrecovered loss—we rather breathe than live. 

HOW VAIN, 

How wretched is 
Poor man that doth remain 
A slave to such a state as this! 

His days are short, at longest; few, at most; 

They are but bad, at best; ye lavished out or lost. 

THEY BE 

The secret springs, 

That make our minutes flee 
On wheels more swift than eagle’s wings. 

Our life’s a clock, and every gasp of breath 
Breathes forth a warning grief, till time shall strike a death, 
IIOW SOON 
Our new-born light 
Attains to full-aged noon! 

And this, how soon to gray-haired night! 

We spring, we bud, we blossom, and we blast, 

Ere we can count our days, our days they flee so fast 

THEY END 

When scarce begun, 

And ere we apprehend 
That we begin to live, our life is done. 

Man! count thy days; and if they fly too fast 
For thy dull thoughts to count, count every day thy last 




54 


THE HOME BEYOND 
FAREWELL LIFE. 


Farewell Life! My senses swim, 

And the world is growing dim: 

Thronging shadows ci'owd the light, 

Like the advent of the night; 

Colder, colder, colder still, 

Upward starts a vapor chill; 

Strong the earthly odor grows,— 

I smell the mould above the rose! 

Welcome Life! The Spirit strives! 

Strength returns, and hope revives; 

Cloudy fears and shapes forlorn 
Fly like shadows at the morn,— 

O’er the earth there comes a bloom; 

Sunny light for sullen gloom, 

Warm perfume for vapor cold,— 

I smell the rose above the mould! 

Thomas Hood. 



TO LIVE IS CHRIST. 


Death in a sense is the gate of life eternal, but it is in life, this 
life, that graces must be wrought and fashioned that shall prepare the 
soul for the enjoyment of eternal life. Paul preaches, with all his 
heart and soul, the infinite preciousness of life. The Christian has 
the consciousness that in this life is the very work and presence 
of Christ. By leaving our work here before the time, we leave His 
work undone. By turning our backs in impatience on this mortal 
scene, we turn them on Him who is in these very struggles and suf¬ 
ferings. Every step forward in the cause of good is a step nearer to 
the life of Christ. Life is the state in which Christ makes Himself 
known to us and through which we must make ourselves known to 
Him. He sanctified and glorified every stage of it. And at every 
place and in every company He was the same Divine Master and Friend. 
Think then how much we have to do for Christ, and like Christ in 
whatever is left to us of life, to rise above ourselves, to lose ourselves 
in the thought of this great work that God has placed before us. For 
the sake of doing this, the apostle would consent to live, would prefer 
life with all its sorrows to death with all its gain. Death to us may be 
perfectly desirable, but fife to us should be perfectly beautiful. 

Dean Stanley 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


55 


LIFE IS FOll CHARACTER, AND CHARACTER FOR 
IMMORTALITY. 


CARDINAL J. H. NEWMAN. 



\ HAT is our life for ? There can be but one answer. This 
world is a training-school for character; as a pleasure-garden 
or a workshop it is a failure. Its flowers fade, its beauties 
pall, its work is never done, and is often broken off in the 
midst, or at the very beginning. There must be some better 
vindication of the Creator. It is this: The world is a school-house 


for man, for the whole of man. He has numerous faculties and 
powers; none can be left out. He has body, intellect, sensibilities, 
will. Are these all of man? Has he no conscience, no religious 
aspiration, no “longing after immortality ?” Philosophy must include 
all the facts. Any view of life which debars from the fullest culture 
any part of our complex nature is essentially defective, and any view 
which omits the highest part is practically false. 

This last indictment will be found to stand against the scheme of 
culture drawn out in the eloquent words of Mr. Huxley: “That man, 
I think, has had a liberal education who has been so trained in youth 
that his body is the ready servant of his will, and does with ease and 
pleasure all the work that as a mechanism it is capable of; whose 
intellect is a clear, cold, logic engine, with all its parts of equal strength 
and in smooth working order-ready, like a steam-engine, to be turned 
to any kind of work, and spin the gossamers as well as forge the 
anchors of the mind; whose mind is stored with the great and 
fundamental truths of Nature, and of the laws of her operations; one 
who, no stunted ascetic, is full of life and fire, but whose passions are 
trained to come to heel by a vigorous will, the servant of a tender 
conscience; who has learned to love all beauty, whether of nature or 
art, to hate all vileness, and to respect others as himself.” Lovely 
picture of a culture radically defective; and in this defective form 
absolutely impossible, for lack of the divine element. No man ever 
yet trained “a vigorous will, the servant of a tender conscience,” and 
learned “to hate all vileness and to respect others as himself,” save 
under the searching eye of God, and by the transforming energy and 
abiding inspiration of the Holy Ghost. 



56 


THE HOME BEYOND 


There is painful proof that many professing Christians have no 
better notions of the possibilities of noble culture which every day 
affords than are indicated in our quotation from Mr. Huxley. They 
prize not the moments as gold dust, and are often laboriously occupied 
in “killing time.” A competent authority declares the end of life to 
be to “seek for glory, honor, and immortality:” the glory of a true, 
symmetrical, godly character; the honor such a character is sure to win, 
and the immortality to which it leads, 

— 

Thou art my King— 

My King henceforth alone; 

And I, Thy Servant, Lord, am all Thine own. 

Give me Thy strength; oh! let Thy dwelling be 
In this poor heart that pants, my Lord, for Thee! 

Gerhard Terstbeoen. 


METAPHORS OF LIFE. 


A flower that does with opening morn arise, 

And, flourishing the day, at evening dies; 

A winged eastern blast, just skimming o’er 
The ocean’s brow, and sinking on the shore; 

A fire, whose flames through crackling stubble fly; 

A meteor shooting through the summer sky; 

A bowl adown the bending mountain rolled: 

A bubble breaking, and a fable told; 

A noon-tide shadow, and a midnight dream; 

Are emblems which, with semblance apt, proclaim 
Our earthly course; but O my soul! so fast 
Must life run out and death forever last? 

Prior. 







# 





* 




















































/ 



THE DEATH-DAY BETTER THAN THE BIRTH-DAY. 


REV. C. H. SPURGEON. 



HE believer’s death-day- 
better than his birth-day. 


-the time of triumph and victory, is 
Birth is the beginningof a journey; 


death is the ending of the weary march to our Father’s house 
above. Again , about the birthday hangs an uncertainty. Child¬ 
ren are blessings, but we cannot tell what will become of them 
when they grow up and come under the influence of evil—they 
may be useful and honorable, or dissolute and degraded. But 
everything is certain about the saint’s death-day. When a child is 
born we know he is born to sorrow, but when a saint dies, we know he 
is done with sorrow and pain. Write, therefore, the death-date above 
the life-date on the headstone. 

The believer’s death-day is better than all his happy days. What 
are his happy days ? The day of his coming of age —he is a man, and 
an estate may be coming to him. This is a day of great festivity— 
all around may be called to rejoice with him. But on the death-day 
of a believer, he comes of age and enters upon his heavenly estate. 
What a jubilee that will be. The day of his marriage Who does 
not rejoice, what cold heart does not beat with joy on that day ? But 
on the death-day we shall move fully into the joy of our Lord, into 
that blessed marriage union which is established between Him and us, 
into that guest chamber where the feast will be spread, and we shall 

59 















60 


THE HOME BEYOND 


"wait the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. Day of gain. When some 
sudden windfall enlarges their capital, or multiplies the profit. But 
there is no gain like that of departure to the Father from a world of 
trouble to a land of triumph. A day of honor — when promoted in 
office, or receiving the applause of men. But what a day of honor to 
be carried by angels into Abraham’s bosom—heirs of God, joint heirs 
with Christ. Days of health and happy days. But what health can 
•qual the perfect wholeness of a spirit upon whom the Physician has 
lisplayed his utmost skill—clean, recovered, and where the inhabitants 
shall no more say, “I am sick.” Happy days of social friendship , 
when hearts warm with hallowed intercourse with a friend, or in the 
midst of one’s family. But no day of social enjoyment can equal the 
day of death. What troops of blessed ones shall meet us I 
What priceless friends over yonder! What family greetings there will 
be! Oh, the bliss of meeting with the Lord! Those who are truly 
related to us in the bonds of everlasting life shall be there. Natural 
kinship has ended, spiritual relationship lasts and survives. 

It is better than his holy days. The day of conversion. Never 
to be forgotten when the heart began to beat with spiritual life, and 
the hand grasped the Lord, and the eyes saw His beauty. But what 
will it be to see Him face to face ? The Sabbath day. Precious and 
dear are the Lord’s days—sweet rests of love—blessed days. But 
death gives us an eternal Sabbath, “ where congregations ne’er break 
up.” Communion days. How sweet to sit at the Lord’s table with His 
memorial in hand, and to think of what He has done, is doing, and has 
promised. What is that to communing with Him in Paradise. Bless 
the Lord for every one of the happy days—but heaven’s days will be 
better. There we shall know each other better—more delight, in 
magnifying the name of Jesus. Our company shall be better— 
perfect company, and we shall then be at home 

It is better than the whole of his days put together. All his days 
here are dying days. Death is the end of dying. Life is conflict— 
death is victory. Life is full of sorrow, death ends that Life is 
longing, death possessing. 




J 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE EVENING OF DEATH. 


61 


REV. T. DE WITT TALMAGE. 

I have heard it said that we ought to live as though each 
moment were to be our last. I do not believe that theory. As far 
as preparation is concerned, we ought always to be ready; but we 
cannot always be thinking of death, for we have duties in life that 
demand our attention. When a man is selling goods, it is his 
business to think of the bargain he is making. When a man is 
pleading in the courts it is his duty to think of the interests of his 
clients. When a clerk is adding up accounts it is his duty to keep 
his mind upon the column of figures. He who fills up his life 
with thoughts of death is far from being the highest style of 
Christian. I knew a man who used ofteu to say at night, “ I wish 
I might die before morning ! ” He is now an infidel. 

But there are times when we can and ought tc give ourselves to 
the contemplation of that solemn moment when to the soul time 
ends and eternity begins. We must go through that one pass. 
There is no roundabout way, no by path, no circuitous route. Die 
we must; and it will be to us a shameful occurrence or a time of 
admirable behavior. Our friends may stretch out their hands to 
keep us back, but no imploration on their part can hinder us. 
They might offer us large retainers, but death would not take the 
fee. The breath will fail and the eyes will close and the heart will 
stop. You may hang the couch with gorgeous tapestry, but what 
does death care for bed curtains ? You may hang the room 
with the finest works of art, but what does death care for pictures ? 
You may fill the house with the wailings of widowhood and 
orphanage ; does death mind weeping ? 

This ought not to be a depressing theme. Who wants to live 
here forever ? The world has always treated me well, and every day 
I feel less and less like scolding and complaining. But yet I would 
not want to make this my eternal residence. I love to watch the 
clouds and to bathe my soul in the blue sea of heaven; but I 
expect, when the firmament is rolled away as a scroll to see a new 
heaven, grander, higher and more glorious. You ought to be 
willing to exchange your body that has headaches and sideaches and 
weaknesses innumerable, that limps with the stone-bruises or festers 



THE HOME BEYOND 


62 


with the thorn or flames on the funeral pyre of fevers, for an incor¬ 
ruptible body and an eye that blinks not before the jasper gates and 
the great white throne. 



DEATH AND ITS WARNINGS. 


D. L. MOODY. 



R HERE is a legend that I read some time ago of a man who 
made a covenant with Death; and the covenant was this: 
that Death should not come on him unawares,—that Death 
is to give warning of his approach. Well, years rolled on, 
and at last. Death stood before his victim. The old man 
blanched and faltered out: “Why, Death, you have not been 
true to your promise, you have not kept your covenant. You 
promised not to come unannounced. You never gave any warning.” 
“How, how!” came the answer, “ every one of those gray hairs is 
a warning; every one of your teeth is a warning; your eyes growing 
dim are a warning; your natural power and vigor abated—that is a 
warning. Aha! Fve warned you—I’ve warned you continually.” 
And Death would not delay, but swept his victim into eternity. 

That is a legend; but how many the past year have heard these 
warning voices? Death has come very near to many of us. What 
warnings have come to us all. The preacher’s call to repentance, 
how again and again they have rung in our ears. We may have one 
or two more calls yet, this year, in the next few hours, but I doubt 
it. Then how many of us in the last twelve months have gone to 
the bedside of some loved friend, and kneeling in silent anguish 
unable to help, have whispered a promise to meet that dying one in 
heaven? Oh, why delay any longer! Before these few lingering 
hours have gone, and the year rolls away into eternity, I beg of 
you, see to it that you prepare to make that promise good. Some 
of you have kissed the marble brow of a dead parent this year, and 
the farewell look of those eyes has been, “ Make ready to meet thy 
God.” In a few years you will follow, and there may be a reunion 
in heaven. Are you ready, dear friends? 

When visiting the body of my brother just before he was put in 
the grave, I picked up his Bible, of the size of this in my hand, 
and there was just one passage of scripture marked. I looked it up 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


63 


and found it read: “ Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with 

thy might. ” As I read it that night the hand that wrote it was silent 
in death. It was written in 1876, Little did he think when he wrote 
it that in that same year he would be silent in the grave. Little did he 
think that the autumn wind and the winter snow would go roaring 
over his grave. Thank God it was a year of jubilee to him. That 
year he found salvation; it was a precious yoar to his soul. That 
year he met his God. How often have I thanked God for that 
brother’s triumphant death! It seems as though I could not live to 
think he had gone down to the grave unprepared to meet his God,— 
gone without God and hope. Dear friends, dear unsaved friends,— 
I appeal to you that you will now accept Christ. Seize the closing 
hours of this year; let not this year die till the great question is 
decided. I plead with you once more to come to the Lord Jesus. 
Oh, hear these blessed words of Christ as I shout them again in your 
hearing: “ Therefore be ye also ready.” 



DEATH IS YOURS. 


REV. JOHN CAIRD, D. D. 


Death comes at Christ’s command to call the believer to Himself; 
and grim and ghastly though be the look of the messenger, surely 
that may well be forgotten in the sweetness of the message he brings. 
Death comes to set the spirit free; and rude though be the hand that 
lmocks off the fetters, and painful though be the process of liberation, 
what need the prisoner care for that, when it is to freedom, life, home, 
he is about to be emancipated ? Death strikes the hour of the soul’s 
everlasting espousals, and though the sound may be a harsh one, what 
matters that ? To common ears it may seem a death-knell, to the ear 
of faith it is a bridal peal. “Now,” may the fainting passing soul 
reflect, “now my Lord is coming, I go to meet Him—to be with 
Jesus—to dwell with Him in everlasting light and love—to be severed 
from Him no more forever. O, Death, lead thou me on!” Or, if 
frail nature should faint and fail in that awful hour, surely this may 
be its strong consolation, the thought that even in the article of disso¬ 
lution, He to whom the soul belongs is near and close beside it, to 
sustain the fortitude of His servant, and shield him in the last alarms 




64 


THE HOME BEYOND 


“The night falls dark upon my spirit; I tremble to go forth into that 
awful mystery and gloom; help, Lord, for my spirit faileth,”—is this 
the cry of its passing anguish ? “Fear not,” will be the sweet response 
that falls upon the inner ear—“Fear not, I am with thee; the night 
is far spent, the day is at hand; a little moment, and the shadows shall 
flee away for ever!” “ O, Death!” may not the dying saint, rising into 
the magnanin'ty of this glorious faith, exclaim—“O, Death, I fear 
thee not: I am not thine, but thou art mine! Thanks be to God that 
giveth me the victory through Jesus Christ my Lord!” 


DEATH IS LIFE. 



f HEN familiarize your mind with the inevitable event of 
death. Think of it, as life! Gloomy though the portal seems, 
death is the gate of life to a good and pious man. Think of 
it therefore, not as death, but as glory—going to heaven and 
to your father. Regard it in the same light as the good man 
who said when I expressed my sorrow to see him sinking into 
the grave, “I am going home.” If you think of it as death, then let 
it be as the death of sin; the death of pain; the death of fear; the 
death of care; the death of Death Regard its pangs and struggles 
as the battle that goes before victory; its troubles as the swell of the 
sea on heaven’s happy shore; and yon gloomy passage as the cypress- 
shaded avenue that shall conduct your steps to heaven It is life 
through Christ, and life in Christ ;hfemost blissful, and life evermore, 
How much happier and nolier we should be if we could look on death 
in that light. I have heard people say, that we should think each 
morning that we may be dead before night; and each night that we 
may be dead before morning! True: yet how much better to think 
every morning, I may be in heaven before night; and every night that 
the head is laid on the pillow, and the eyes are closed for sleep, to 
think, next time I open them it may be to look on Jesus, and the land 
where there is no night, nor morning; nor sunset, nor cloud; nor 
grave nor grief; nor sin, nor death, nor sorrow; nor toil, nor trouble; 
wh<»re “they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them.” 

Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 








OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


65 


DEATH AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 



RE we then immortal? Oh! then, we are “blessed”indeed! 
ji Death is not the frightful monster which he is so constantly 
represented to be; he is an angel of light and mercy, 
veiling his resplendent glories under the shadowy drapery of tile 
tomb, lest the saints should become so much enamored with his 
loveliness, as to hasten at once to leave this erring, darkened 
world, to dwell in his radiant dominion, and thus deprive the earth of 
the salt which has so long preserved it from destruction. His exit, 
through the frowning portals of the grave, is but to prevent those 
who are “in the Lord,” from crowding, with hasty, willing steps, the 
pathway to his mysterious dwelling place, so delightful and glorious, 
as soon as the gloomy exterior is passed! Can it be, that this body, 
soon to become inanimate, and waste to dust, can, and will, revive and 
live ? that the eye, though dimmed with the film of death, will re¬ 
brighten, and sparkle with looks of recognition and love? That this 
lifeless body, once so loved, and embraced with the fondest affection 
and delight, but now so loathsome that it is looked upon with horror, 
and we bear it from our sight, and conceal it from view in the dark 
earth, will come forth more perfect and glorious than ever? Yea, 
saith the Spirit; from henceforth, “Blessed are the dead which die in 
the Lord;” for “ It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown 
in weakness, it is raised in power. For this corruptible must put on 
incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.” Then shall 
death be swallowed up in victory. Oh! are they not “blessed” who 
die only to live forever, in a state so infinitely above the most perfect 
condition of humanity, that it is “not worthy to be compared with 
the glory which shall be revealed in us.” 

Rev. Sidney Dyer, D. D 

what^dS™7 


“ What is the soul? The seminal principle from the loins of destiny. 
This world is the womb: the body, its enveloping membrane: 

The bitterness of dissolution, dame Fortune’s pangs of childbirth. 
What is death? To be born again, an angel of eternity.” 

Buzurgi. ( The Per hah Peek) 





66 


THE HOME BEYOND 
RIGHT AND WRONG VIEWS OF DEATH. 


PROF. A. P. PEABODY, D. D. 


Mil E employ with regard to death a great deal of pagan 
iUM j* imagery, which can hardly fail to let low and unworthy 
ideas into onr minds. We talk of the blighting of early 
promise, of the premature death of the young and the 
beautiful. We too often speak of the pure and the good that 
have gone from us, as if they were objects of pity. We regret 
for them the brief pleasures, the withering joys of the passing day. 
And then our thoughts revert, oftener than a high Christian culture 
should permit, to the sad accompaniments of dissolution and the last 
lonely home of the frail tenement of clay, even as the caterpillar 
might look upon the torn covering of the chrysalis as all that remained 
of his fellow-worm, ignorant that the rent and forsaken tabernacle 
marked the higher birth of its tenant. But our faith tells us that to 
those to whom it was Christ to live, it is gain to die. Let our thoughts, 
then, linger not about the grave, but seek our kindred in the nearer 
presence of their Father and their Saviour, in the home where every 
holy wish is met and every pure desire fulfilled, where suffering and 
sorrow are no more, and life clothes itself in eternal youth and unfading 
beauty. What would our brief joys be to those to whom all the 
avenues of divine wisdom are free, the riches of infinite love unfolded, 
and a boundless sphere of duty and of happiness laid open ? In the 
language of Moore: 


How happy 

The holy spirits who wander there, 

’Mid flowers that shall never fade or fall! 
Though mine were the gardens of earth and sea, 
Though the stars themselves had flowers for me, 
One blossom of heaven outblooms them all. 

Go, wing thy flight from star to star, 

From world to luminous world, as far 
As the universe spreads its flaming wall; 

Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, 

And multiply each through endless years, 

One minute of heaven is worth them all. 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE DEAD ARE THE LIVING. 


67 


I have seen one die—the delight of his friends, the pride of 
his kindred, the hope of his country: but he died! How beautiful 
was that offering upon the altar of death! The fire of genius 
kindled in his eye; the generous affections of youth mantled in his 
cheek; his foot was upon the threshold of life; his studies, his 
preparations for honored and useful life, were completed; his breast 
was filled with a thousand glowing, and noble, and never yet expressed 
aspirations; but he died! He died; while another, of a nature dull, 
coarse and unrefined, of habits low, base, and brutish, of a promise 
that had nothing in it but shame and misery—such an one, I say was 
suffered to encumber the earth. Could this be, if there were no other 
sphere for the gifted, the aspiring, and the approved, to act in ? Can 
we believe that the energy just trained for action, the embryo thought 
just bursting into expression, the deep and earnest passion of a noble 
nature, just swelling into the expansion of every beautiful virtue, 
should never manifest its power, should never speak, should never 
unfold itself? Can we believe that all this should die; while mean¬ 
ness, corruption, sensuality, and every deformed and dishonored 
power should five? No, ye goodly and glorious ones! ye godlike in 
youthful virtue!—ye die not in vain: ye teach, ye assure us, that ye 
are gone to some world of nobler life and action. 

I have seen one die; she was beautiful; and beautiful were the 
ministries of life that were given her to fulfill. Angelic loveliness 
enrobed her; and a grace as if it were caught from heaven, breathed 
in every tone, hallowed every affection, shone in every action— 
invested, as a halo, her whole existence, and made it a light and 
blessing, a charm and a vision of gladness, to all around her: but she 
died! Friendship, and love, parental fondness, and infant weakness, 
stretched out their hand to save her; but they could not save her: and 
she died! What! did all that loveliness die? Is there no land of the 
blessed and the lovely ones, for such to live in? Forbid it, reason, 
religion!—bereaved affection, and undying love! forbid the thought! 
It cannot be that such die in God’s counsel, who live even in frail 
human memory, forever! 


Rev. Orville Dewey, D. D. 



68 


THE HOME BEYOND 


DEATH THE DESTROYER AND RESTORER 


Ij gg gafHERE is proclaimed one mightier than death or hell He is 
III® the Prince of Life and Lord of Glory He, in bringing 
rescue tasted of death, yea not only met the common lot, but 
nM' bore on himself the common and concentrated guilt of our race. 

Doing this he tore the sting from death and to them that believe, 
I He is become the author of life, everlasting life. 

To them that receive Christ, the war though fierce has lost its 
main terror and is stripped of its perils, mortality loses its ghastlines 
and puts on hopefulness and promise. The grave is like the wet, cold 
March day, behind whose gloom lie the treasures of bursting spring 
and the glories of refulgent summer. The light afflictions are but for 
a moment Death to the saint changes many of its offices. If 
pain walks at his side, He is also the queller of strife and the calmer 
of cara No more throbs or sighs, but rest. He is in one sense the 
Destroyer, but in another the Restorer. He brings back, through 
Christ’s victorious grave, the lost innocence and peace of Eden. He 
divides the nearest ties, but also re-unites to those who sleep in Jesus. 
He is the curse of the law, but through the blessed one, who magnified 
and satisfied the law, he becomes to the believer in Jesus, the end of 
sin, the gate of Paradise, and the recompense of a new, a better and 
an unending lifa 

Rev. W. R. Williams, D. D. 



DEATH DOES NOT END ALL. 


In another and perhaps more philosophical view of the case, no 
adequate, logical reason could be given for human existence, if this 
life ended all. Man stood at the apex of a pyramid. Below him were 
the various forms of life, animal and vegetable, and the inanimate 
kingdom. Everything in the world had an object, an end. There 
was a reason in its existence, and it subserved some end. The inani¬ 
mate world—the dull, cold rock and metal—served a purpose in 
furnishing the essentials for animal and vegetable lifa The vege¬ 
table world supported the animal world, and each higher form of life 
subsisted on a lower form, the end of whose existence was thus attained 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


69 


until man was reached. But what was the end of man’s life if it 
ended here ? He was a philosophical failure, a cosmic anti climax. 
If this life, however, was but a state of preparation for a future 
existence, no violence was done to this grand law which seemed to 
pervade all forms of matter, animate and inanimate. 

Bev. H. M. Scuddeb, D. D. 

-- 

DESTRUCTION OF THE ASSYRIANS. 


BYRON. 


The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 

And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; 

And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, 
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 

Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, 

That host with their banners at sunset were seen; 

Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, 
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. 

For the angel of death spread his wings on the blast, 

And breathed on the face of the foe as he passed, 

And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, 

And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still. 

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, 

But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; 
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, 

And cold as the spray of the'rock-beaten surf. 

And there lay the rider, distorted and pale, 

With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail; 

And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, 

The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown, 

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, 

And the idols are broken in the temple of Baal; 

And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord. 






% 

























































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


71 


THE VOICES OF THE DEAD. 

The world is filled with the voices of the dead. They speak 
not from the public records of the great world only, but from the 
private history of our own experience. They speak to us in a 
thousand remembrances, in a thousand incidents, events, associations. 
They speak to us, not only from their silent graves, but from the 
throng of life. Though they are invisible, yet life is filled with their 
presence. They are with us, by the silent fireside and in the secluded 
chamber: they are with us in the paths of society, and in the crowded 
assembly of men. They speak to us from the lonely way-side^, and 
they speak to us, from the venerable walls that echo to the steps of a 
multitude, and to the voice of prayer. Go where we will, the dead are 
with us. We live, we converse, with those, who once lived and con¬ 
versed, with us. Their well remembered tone mingles with the 
whispering breezes, with the sound of the falling leaf, with the jubilee 
shout of the spring-time. The earth is filled with their shadowy train. 

But there are more substantial expressions of the presence of the 
dead with the living. The earth is filled with labors, the works, of 
the dead. Almost all the literature in the world, the discoveries of 
science, the glories of art, the ever-during temples, the dwelling-places 
of generations, the comforts and improvements of life, the languages, 
the maxims, the opinions, of the living, the very frame-work of society, 
the institutions of nations, the fabrics of empires—all are the works 
of the dead; by these, they who are dead yet speak. Life—busy, 
eager, craving, importunate, absorbing life—yet what is its sphere, 
compared with the empire of death! What, in other words, is the 
sphere of visible, compared with the mighty empire of invisible life! 
They live—they live indeed, whom we call dead. They live in our 
thoughts; they live in our blessings; they live in our life; “death hath 
no power over them.” 

Rev. Orville Dewey, D. D. 

When the pure soul is from the body flown, 

No more shall night’s alternate reign be known; 

The sun no more shall rolling light bestow, 

But from th’ Almighty streams of glory flow. 

Oh, may some nobler thought my soul employ 
Than empty, transient, sublunary joy! 

The stars shall drop, the sun shall lose his flame, 

But Thou, O, God! for ever shine the same. 

John Gray. 



72 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE SPIRIT SURVIVES IN ITS COMPLETENESS 


KEY. CANON H. P. LIDDON, D. D. 



brethren, observe, that man’s spirit cannot be resolved 
like his body intofcrm and material, the former perishing 
Awhile the latter survives. Man’s spirit either exists in its 
completeness, or it ceases to exist. The bodily form of Wil¬ 
liam the Conqueror has long dissolved into dust. The material 
atoms 'which made up the body of William the Conqueror during 
his lifetime exist somewhere now beneath the pavement of the great 
church at Caen; but if the memory and the conscience and the will of 
the Conqueror have perished, then his spirit has ceased to be. There 
is no substratum below or beyond these wdiich could perpetuate exist¬ 
ence; there is nothing spiritual to survive them, for the soul of man— 
your soul and mine—knows itself to be an indivisible whole— 
something which cannot be broken into parts, and enter into unison 
with other souls—with other minds. Each of us is himself. Each 
can become no other. My memory, my affections, my way of thinking 
and feeling are all my own; they are not transferable. If they perish 
they perish all together. There are no atoms to survive them which 
con be worked into another spiritual existence; and thus the extinction 
of an animal or a vegetable is only the extinction of that particular 
combination of matter—not of the matter itself; but the extinction of 
a soul, if the thing were possible, would be the total extinction of all 
that made it to be what it ever was. In the physical world, destruc¬ 
tion and death are only changes. In the spiritual world, the only 
possible analogous process would mean annihilation. And, therefore, 
it is a reasonable and a very strong presumption that spirit is not, in 
fact, placed at this enormous disadvantage when compared with 
matter, and that, if matter survives the dissolution of organic forms, 
much more must spirit survive the dissolution of the material forms 
with which it has been for a while associated. 


^ _ -n^' y > • 

He lay within the light of God, 

Like a babe upon the breast; 

Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
And the weary at rest. 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
DEATH OVERCOME. 


Where faith in Jesus raises a dying man above the sufferings of 
nature, and a sinful man above the terrors of guilt, illuminating the 
closing scene with the hopes and very light of approaching glory, this 
close of life is the grandest of sunsets. Nowhere, does religion look 
so magnificent as amid such scenes. And never does she seem so 
' himphant as when, with her fingers closing the filmy eyes, sho 
Litem plates the peaceful corpse; and bending down to take one fond 
v- of pallid lips, or marble brow, rises, and raises her hands to heaven, 

• -s. claims, Blessed are the dead! The battle done; the victory won; 
*est, warrior! workman! pilgrim!—rest! “Blessed are the dead which 
die in the Lord; for they rest from their labors, and their works do 
follow them.” 

Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 

-o- 

It is not death at all; it is life. Some one said to a person dying: 
“ Well, you are in the land of the living yet.” “No,” said he, “I am 
in the land of the dying yet, but I am going to tho land of the living; 
they live there and never die.” This is the land of sin and death and 
tears, but up yonder they never die. It is perpetual life; it is unceasing. 

D. L. Moody. 

DEATH AND IMMORTALITY. 

The dreadful night darksomne66e 
Had overspread the light, 

And sluggish sleep with drowsinesse 
Had overprest our might: 

A glass wherein you may behold 
Each storm that stops our breath, 

One bed, the grave, our clothes like mould 
And sleep like dreadful death. 

Yet as this deadly night did last 
But for a little space, 

And heavenly day, now night is past, 

Doth show his pleasant face; 

So must we hope to see God’s face 
At last in heaven on high, 

When we have changed this mortal place 
For immortality. 

Georoe Garcoione. 






74 


THE HOME BEYOND 


CONTRASTS IN DEATH. 



f?UT “Death robs us of all things,” exclaims the sordid 
worldling. “To die is gain!” responds the expectant 
believer.—“ Death is an eternal sleep,” affirms the boasting 
'W* atheist. “The dead in Christ shall awake, and come forth, 
incorruptible, immortal, and glorified,” replies the confiding 
Christian.—“Death is the King of Terrors,” tremblingly exclaims 
the unprepared traveller *to the grave. “ Oh! death, where is thy sting ? 
Oh! grave, where is thy victory?” shouts the trusting disciple of the 
cross.—“All that I have will I give for my life!” groans the dying 
lover of this world. “I would not live always,” responds the emanci¬ 
pated follower of the Prince of Life. 


“ Away with death, away, 

With all his sluggish sleep and chilling damp, 
Imperious to the day, 

Where nature sinks into insanity; 

How can the soul desire 
Such hateful nothingness to crave, 

And yield with joy the vital fire, 

To moulder in the grave!” 


/hus shrieks the shrinking voluptuary. 


“ Who, who would live alway away from his God, 

Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, 

Where rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright plains, 

And the noontide of glory eternally reigns?” 

Thus sings the enraptured saint. 

Rev. Sidney Dyer, D. D. 



OUR BURIAL PLACES SACRED. 


How we linger around the cold remains of a friend till absolutely 
driven from it! How we care for it, as for some precious gem not 
always to be trodden in the dust! How reverently we commit it to 
the keeping of its mother earth; bidding it good night as if in 
attendance on the councils of royalty! 

How sacred is the spot where he lies! How often do we retire 
not alone to weep but to hold sweet communion with the departed, 
and say, “We shall meet again.” 

The Rev. Alexander McClelland, D. D. 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
TOWARD EVENING. 


75 


You are almost through with the abuse and backbiting of enemies. 
They will call you no more by evil names. Your good deeds will 
not longer be misinterpreted or your honor filched. The troubles of 
earth will end in the felicities of heaven! Toward evening! The 
bereavements of earth will soon be lifted. You will not much longer 
stand pouring your grief in the tomb like Rachel weeping for her 
children or David mourning for Absalom. Broken hearts bound up. 
Wounds healed. Tears wiped away. Sorrows terminated. No more 
sounding of the dead march! Toward evening. Death will come 
sweet as slumber to the eyelids of the baby, as full rations to a starving 
soldier, as evening hour to the exhausted workman. The sky will 
take on its sunset glow, every cloud a fire-psalm, every lake a glassy 
mirror; the forests transfigured; delicate mists climbing in the air. 
Your friends will announce it; your pulses will beat it; your joys will 
ring it; your lips will whisper it: “Towardevening.” 

Talmage. 

DEATH THE GATE OF LIFE. 


Oh! death!—dark hour to hopeless unbelief! hour to which, in 
that creed of despair, no hour shall succeed! being’s last hour! to 
whose appalling darkness, even the shadows of an avenging 
retribution were brightness and relief—death! what art thou to the 
Christian’s assurance ? Great hour of answer to life’s prayer—great 
hour that shall break asunder the bond of life’s mystery—hour of 
release from life’s burden—hour of reunion with the loved and lost— 
what mighty hopes, hasten to their fulfilment in thee! What longings, 
what aspirations,—breathed in the still night, beneath the silent stars 
—what dread emotions of curiosity—what deep meditations of joy— 
what hallowed imaginings of never experienced purity and bliss— 
what possibilities shadowing forth unspeakable realities to the soul, 
all verge their consummation in thee! Oh! death! the Christian’s 
death! what art thou but the gate of life, the portal of heaven, the 
threshold of eternity! 


Rev. Orville Dewey, D. D. 




76 


THE HOME BEYOND 
TWO FUNERALS. 


There are two funerals for every Christian; one the funeral of the 
body and the other the soul—rather it is the marriage of the soul; for 
angels stand ready to carry it to the Saviour. The angels, imitating 
husbandmen, as they near the gates of heaven may shout “Harvest 
Home.” There is a holiday whenever a saint enters—and there is 
praise to God, 

“ While life, or thought, or being lasts 
Or immortality endures.” 


Spurgeon. 


DEATH OF THE GOOD MAN- 


Sure the last end 

Of the good man is peace! How calm his exit! 
Night dews fall not more gently to the ground, 
Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft. 

Behold him in the evening-tide of life— 

A life well spent—whose early care it was 
His riper years should not upbraid his green: 

By unpreceived degrees he wears away; 

Yet, like the sun, seems larger at his setting. 
High in his faith and hopes, look how he reaches 
After the prize in view! and, like a bird 
That’s hamper’d, struggles hard to get away; 
While the glad gates of sight are wide expanded 
To let new glories in, the first fair fruits 
Of the last-coming harvest. Then, Oh, then! 
Each earth-born joy grows vile, or disappears, 
Shrunk to a thing of nought. Oh, how he longs 
To have his passport sign’d, and be dismiss’d! 

’Tis done, and now he’s happy! The glad soul 
Has not a wish uncrown’d! E’en the lag flesh 
Rests, too, in hope of meeting once again 
Its better half, never to sunder more. 

Nor shall it hope in vain: the time draws on 
When not a single spot of burial earth, 

Whether on land or in the spacious sea, 

But must give back its long-committed dust 
Inviolate. 


Robert Blair 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
DEATH PANGS, BIRTH PANGS. 


77 



O a child of God, what are its pains but the pangs of birth; 
its battle, but the struggle that precedes the victory; its 
j|^ tossings but the swell and surf that beats on the shores of 
^ eternal life; its grave but a bed of peaceful rest, where the 
bodies of saints sleep out the night that shall fly away for 
ever before the glories of a resurrection mom. I know a 
churchyard where this is strikingly set forth in the rude sculpturing 
of a burial stone. Beneath an angel figure, that, with outstretched 
wings and trumpet at the mouth, blows the resurrection, there lies a 
naked skull. Beneath the angel, and beside this emblem of mortality, 
two forms stand; one is the tenant of the grave below, the other it is 
impossible to mistake, it is the skeleton figure of the King of Terrors. 
His dart lies on the ground broken in two, and the hand that has 
dropped it is stretched out over the skull, and held in the grasp of the 
other figure. Enemies reconciled, the man bravely shakes hands with 
death, and his whole bearing show that they are become sworn friends. 
As if he had just heard Jesus announcing, I am the resurrection and 
the life, you seem to hear him saying, O, death, where is thy sting, O, 
grave, where is thy victory ? The sting of death is sin, and the 
strength of sin is the law; but thanks be to God who giveth me the 
victory through my Lord Jesus Christ. 

Rev. Dr. Guthrie. 


Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear, 

That mourns thine exit from a world like this: 
Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here, 
And stayed thy progress to the realms of bliss. 
When my dying hour must be, 

Be not absent then from me: 

In that dreadful hour I pray, 

Jesus, come without delay, 

See and set me free. 

When Thou biddest me depart, 

Whom I cleave to with my heart, 

Lover of my soul be near, 

With Thy saving cross appear, 

Show Thyself to me. 


Bernard, of Clairvaux. 






78 


THE HOME BEYOND 
WE LOVE TO VISIT OUR CEMETERIES. 



Death is an event we do not attempt to shut out of view. 
JIJF Here, our city has its cemeteries, which, by their taste and 


wST beauty, rather attract than repel a visit. There, where hoary, 
trees fling their shadow on graves, stands the rural church 
If within whose humble walls the living worship in closest 
I neighborhood with the dead; a type of heaven, the approach to 
that sanctuary is by a path which passes through the realms of death. 
When death occurs among us, friends and neighbors are invited to 
the funeral; and in broad day the sad procession, following the nodding 
hearse, wends slowly along our most public streets. The spot that 
holds our dead we sometimes visit, and always regard as a sort of 
sacred ground; there a monument is raised to record their virtues; or 
a willow, with its weeping branches flung over the grave, expresses 
our grief; or a pine or a laurel, standing there in evergreen beauty 
when frosty blasts have stripped the woods; symbolises the hopes of 
the living, and the immortality of death; our hands plants some sweet 
flowers, which though they shed their blossoms as our hopes were 
shed, and hide their heads awhile beneath the turf, spring up again 
to remind us how the dear ones who there sleep in Jesus are awaiting 
the resurection of the just. 


Rev. De. Guthkie. 


JESUS THE PRECIOUS NAME IN DEATH. 


What if the sun of life is about to set? Jesus is the day-spring 
from on high; the perpetual morning of every ransomed spirit. What 
if the darkness comes? Jesus is the light of the world and of heaven 
V hat though this earthly house does crumble ? Jesus has prepared a 
house of many mansions. Jesus is the anchor that always holds. 
Jesus is the light that is never eclipsed. J esus is the fountain that is 
never exhausted. Jesus is the evening star, hung up amid the gloom 
of the gathering night. 



Talmage. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE DEATH OF DEATH. 


79 


Our Lord himself shrank from death; he cast himself at his 
Father’s feet, to cry in an agony, If it be possible let this cup pass 
from me. And who, unless some unhappy wretch, courts death, 
wishes to die, to lie down among those naked skulls, and the grim 
unsocial tenants of the grave? Faith herself turns away from the 
thought. Standing on the edge of the grave, she turns her eye 
upward; and, leaving the poor body to worms and dust, she wings her 
flight heavenward, follows the spirit to the realms of bliss, and loves 
to think of the dead as living; as not dead; as standing before the 
Lamb with crowns of glory, and bending on us looks of love and 
kindness from their celestial seats. Yes; death needs all the comforts 
that religion can summon to our aid. 

Nor has Christ left His people comfortless. By His life, and 
death, and resurrection, He has fulfilled the high expectations of 
prophets; nor, bold as it is, is the language too lofty which Hosea puts 
into his mouth, O, death, I will be thy plagues; O, grave, I will be thy 
destruction. The death of Death, the life of the grave and greatest 
of all its tenants, he has conquered the conqueror of kings; he has 
broken the prison, he has bound the jailer, he has seized the keys, 
and he comes in the fullness of time to set all his imprisoned people 
free. They are prisoners of hope. He will bring back his banished. 
Hehas entered into glory as their forerunner, or, as “the first-born 
from the dead.” 

Bev. Dr. Guthrie. 

-O- 

Fuerbach, a German author of extraordinary acumen and 
audacity has said: “Only before death, but not in death, is death 
death. Death is so unreal a being that he only is when he is not, and 
is not when he is.” This—paradoxical and puzzling as it may appear 
—is susceptible of quite lucid interpretation and defence. For death 
is, in its naked significance, the state of not-being. Of course, then, 
it has no existence save in the conceptions of the living. We com¬ 
pare a dead person with what he was when living, and instinctively 
personify the difference as death. Death, strictly analyzed, is only 
this abstract conceit or metaphysical nonentity. Death, therefore, 
being but a conception in the mind of a living person, when that 
person dies death ceases to be at all. And thus the realization of 





80 


THE HOME BEYOND 


death is the death of death. He annihilates himself, dying with the 
dart he drives. Having in his manner disposed of the personality or 
entity of death, it remains as an effect, an event, a state. Accord¬ 
ingly, the question next arises: What is death when considered in 
this its true aspect ? 

W. R Axgeb. 


THE DEATH OF A GOOD MAN. 



ND when you see the body of a saint, if he has served God 
with all his might, how sweet it is to look upon him—ah, and 
l to look upon his coffin too, or upon his tomb in after years! 
Go into Bunhill-fields, and stand by the memorial of John 
Bunyan and you will say: “Ah! there lies the head that 
contained the brain which thought out that wondrous dream of 
the Pilgrim’s Progress from the City of Destruction to the better 
land. There lie the fingers that wrote those wondrous lines which 
depict the story of him who came at last to the land of Beulah, and 
waded through the flood, and entered into the celestial city. And 
there are the eyelids which he once spoke of, when he said: “If I lie 
in prison until the moss grows on my eyelids, I will never make a 
promise to withhold from preaching.” And there is that bold eye 
that penetrated the judge, when he said: “If you will let me out of 
prison to-day, I will preach again to-morrow, by the help of God.” 
And there lies that loving hand that was ever ready to receive into 
communion all them that loved the Lord Jesus Christ: I love the 
hand that wrote the book, “Water Baptism no Bar to Christian 
Communion.” I love him for that sake alone, and if he had written 
nothing else but that, I would say: “John Bunyan, be honored for 
ever.” 

Spurgeon. 


Let me grow by sun and shower, 

Every moment water me; 

Make me really hour by hour 

More and more conformed to Thee, 
That Thy loving eye may trace, 

Day by day, my growth in grace. 


H. R. Havergal. 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
A STINGLESS DEATH. 


81 


REV. J. OSWALD DYKES, D. D. 

The Christian’s is a stingless death. Death to such a one is 
an angel of peace. He comes to loose the prison-bands of clay and 
set them free to go home to their Father’s house. Theirs is the gain, 
ours is the loss, yet not all, for we must not forget that Christ’s gospel 
has a power of transmuting present bereavement into gain. Bereave¬ 
ment is often turned for those who live into a blessing. God did two 
kindnesses at one stroke when He bereft you of your beloved; one 
kindness to him; another kindness to you. To him, the perfecting of 
character and bestowal of bliss; to you, ripening of character and 
preparation for bliss. 

By such sweet solaces of sorrow as these, Christ leads us forward 
to the hope of a yet future and still grander consolation, when we 
shall be reunited in a holy place and forever. It was a prediction of 
this which Jesus gave that day at Nain by the resurrection of the 
dead son and his reunion to his mother. The resurrection of Christ 
Himself is that which guarantees the ultimate unpeopling of every 
tomb, including that “ vast and wandering grave,” the sea. His risen 
body presents the type of every reconstructed Christian body. His 
glorified life is the source and pledge of their life in glory. For this 
recall from death by the archangel’s voice to Christ’s own deathless 
and transfigured immortality, as for the deepest, grandest and last of 
our consolations, Christ bids us hope. Now we are sad and weary 
for we dwell apart; but Jesus has compassion on us as he had upon 
the widow, and he tenderly encourages us to be patient, and to wait, 
because with such hopes as these He leads us, greatly longing, forward 
to a day, when He shall give back our lost beloved to our eternal 
unbrace, and us also to theirs, the glorified to the glorified, to be for 
ever one. Then He shall wipe all tears from our eyes, and say, 
otherwise and more effectually than He did at Nain, “Weep not.” 



DEATH HAS LOST ITS TERROR 


To the Christian this present life is simply a pilgrimage to a 
better country and to a city whose builder and maker is God Every 
day he moves his tent nearer to his true homa His citizenship is in 







82 


THE HOME BEYOND 


heaven, his thoughts, his hopes, his aspirations, are heavenly. This* 
unworldliness or heavenly-mindedness, far from disqualifying him 
for the duties of earth, makes him more faithful and conscientious in 
his calling; for he remembers that he must render an account for 
every word and deed at a bar of God’s judgment! Yea, in proportion 
as he is heavenly-minded and follows the example of his Lord and 
Saviour, he brings heaven down to earth and lifts earth up to heaven, 
and infuses the purity of and happiness of heaven into his heart and 
home. Faith unites us to Christ, who is life itself in its truest, fullest 
conception; life in God, life eternal. United with Christ, we live 
indeed, shedding round about us the rays of His purity, goodness, 
love and peace. Death has lost its terror; it is but a short slumber 
from which we shall awake in His likeness and enjoy what eye has not 
seen, nor ear heard, nor even entered the imagination of man. 
4 Because I live, ye shall live also.” 

Rev. Philip Schaef, D. Jj 

DEATH THE FIAT OF GOD. 

The grass, has at best, a vanishing form, ready, almost before 
maturity, to be resolved into its elements—to sink back into the earth 
from which it sprang. 4 ‘The breath of the Lord has blown upon 
it.” Death does not come to men, animals or herbs simply in conse¬ 
quence of the chemical solvents which they contain, but because the 
Being who gave them life, freely withdraws that which he gave. Death 
is always the fiat of God, arresting the course of life. This truth of 
revelation is not at variance with the chemistry of animal life. 
Whatever else human life is, or may imply, it is soon over. It fades 
away suddenly like the grass. The world may have made great 
progress during the centuries, but the frontiers of life do not change 
with the generations of men. We are born and die just as our rudest 
ancestors. Every one of us shall die. “The grass withereth, the 
flower passeth.” It is not a bit of sentiment, but a solid law, true at 
this moment and always true. 

Rev. Canon H. P. Liddon, D. D 


W1F 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

THE DEAD AND THE LIVING. 


83 



? HAT a pleasant thought that when be come to do 
§9 the people will show us respect, that they will gather 
around our bier and religiously lay our remains away 
in the earth for the angels to watch over till the morn 
ing of the resurrection. Perhaps a tear will be dropped 
on our coffin or our grave, and appreciative w T ords will be 
But would it not tfe as well if honors were not en- 


if a part of the love and affection that 
bier of the dead would encircle the home of 


spoken. 

tirely posthumous; 
gather around the 
the living ? 

Kind words spoken in the ears of a living man, woman or child, 
are worth a great deal more than the most complimentary utterances 
over the coffin of the dead. The time to carry flowers is when they 
can be looked upon and handled, when their fragrance can be inhaled 
and their beauty enjoyed ; when the attention bestowed will warm the 
heart and awaken, more. Love poured out at family altars, in the so¬ 
cial circle, amid the struggles and conflicts of life, may lift up the 
fallen, cheer the fainting heart, convert sorrow into joy, causing 
many a flower to spring up and bloom along the rugged pathways of 
this world. Were this done, there would be smiles instead of tears, 
rosy cheeks, where now there are dull and haggard ones, light in the 
place of darkness, and a terrestial paradise, perhaps, in the raging, 
warring elements of an earthly pandemonium. 


Of gold, and gems, and jewels rare, 
Earth hides a countless store, 

If we may trust the sages 
Deep read in nature’s lore; 

And many a pearl lies buried 
In ocean’s shining caves, 

But sacred treasures sleep within 
Our pleasant hill of graves. 


-— 















































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY. 


85 


WILLIAM AUGUSTUS MUHLENBERG. 


I would not live alway—live alway below! 

Oh, no, I’ll not linger when bidden to go: 

The days of our pilgrimage granted us here 
Are enough for life’s woes, full enough for its cheer: 
Would I shrink from the path which the prophets of God, 
Apostles, and martyrs, so joyfully trod? 

Like a spirit unblest, o’er the earth would I roam, 

While brethren and friends are all hastening home? 

I would not live alway—I ask not to stay 
Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way; 

Where seeking for rest we but hover around, 

Like the patriarch’s bird, and no resting is found; 

Where Hope, when she paints her gay bow in the air, 
Leaves its brilliance to fade in the night of despair, 

And Joy’s fleeting angel ne’er sheds a glad ray, 

Save the gleam of the plumage that bears him away. 

I would not live alway—thus fettered by sin, 

Temptation without and corruption within; 

In a moment of strength if I sever the chain, 

Scarce the victory is mine, ere I’m captive again; 

E’en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, 

And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears: 

The festival trump calls for jubilant songs, 

But my spirit her own miserere prolongs. 

I would not live alway—no, welcome the tomb! 

Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom; 

Where he deigned to sleep, I’ll too bow my head, 

All peaceful to slumber on that hallowed bed. 

Then the glorious daybreak, to follow that night, 

The orient gleam of the angels of light, 

With their clarion call for the sleepers to rise 
And chant forth their matins, away to the skies. 

Who, who would live alway—away from his God, 

Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode 

Where the rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright plains, 

And the noontide of glory eternally reigns; 

Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, 

Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet, 

While the songs of salvation exultingly roll, 

And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul! 




86 


THE HOME BEYOND 


That heavenly music! what is it I hear? 

The notes of the harpers ring sweet in mine ear! 
And see, soft unfolding those portals of gold, 
The King all arrayed in his beauty behold! 

Oh, give me, oh, give me the wings of a dove, 
To adore him, be near him, enrapt with his love; 
I but wait for the summons, I list for the word— 
Alleluia—Amen—evermore with the Lord. 

NEARER MY BEST. 


MARIAN LONGFELLOW. 



| EARER my rest with each succeeding day 
f That bears me still mine own allotted task! 

4 Nearer my rest! the clouds roll swift away, 

And nought remains, O, Lord, for me to ask. 

If I but bear unflinchingly life’s pain. 

And humbly lay it at thy feet divine, 

Then shall I see each loss a hidden gain, 

And thy sweet mercy through the darkness shine! 


Nearer my rest! the long, long weary hours 
Had well-nigh gained the victory o’er my soul; 
Thy mercy, falling soft like summer showers, 
Upheld me, fainting near the victor’s goal. 


Nearer my rest, and as I journey on, 

Grant me, dear Lord (my angel-guides to be, 

To keep and help me ere that rest be won), 

Patience, and Faith, and blessed Purity! 

Patience,—that I may never sink dismayed, 

However dark and drear may seem the road ; 

Patience,—though doubt, though every cross that’s laid 
Upon my heart,—nor sink beneath the load. 

Faith,—that e’en though to mortal eyes be hidden 
The reason why this life be oft opprest, 

I only do, with childlike trust, as bidden, 

And leave to Thee, confidingly, the rest! 

And Purity,—O, Godlike attribute! 

Be thou my standard, shield, and armor bright; 

Without thee no tree beareth worthy fruit,—• 

These three, 0 ; Lord! to lead me through the night! 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
NO FEAR OF DEATH. 


87 


It is only for Christ to say, “ Peace, be still,” and all is well. He 
comes to dwell within ns, He comes to give comfort, to be a joy. 
Hence, it is said, “ Christ in you is the hope of glory.” He is with 
me, the joy of my soul. When I come to die He will take me to 
Himself. 

I was struck very much by the remark which Father Tasker 
made to me the other day. Many of you know him. He told me of 
his experience when sick. Some one asked him “ what he thought of 
death.” He said he scarcely thought of it. He just said to himself, 
‘‘Jesus is the only one who has any right to me; the devil has no right 
to me; I don’t know where to go or who ought to take me if Jesus 
don’t, and so I left myself in the hands of Jesus and felt all at peace.” 
If Christ dwells in our hearts there is that unison. If He loves me 
so much as to come and dwell within me here is safe ground for the 
future 

“ This I do find 

We two are so joined; 

He’ll not live in glory 
And leave me behind.” 

Bishop M. Simpson, D. D. 

<000 

THE RIGHT VIEW OF DEATH. 


I received sometime ago a letter from a friend in London, and I 
thought, as I read it, I would take it and read it to other people and 
see if I could not get them to look upon death as this friend does. He 
lost a loved mother. In England it is a very common thing to send 
out cards in memory of the departed ones, and they put upon them 
great borders of black—sometimes a quarter of an inch of black 
border—but this friend has gone and put on gold; he did not put on 
black at all; she had gone to the golden city, and so he just put on a 
golden border; and I think it a good deal better than black. I think 
when our friends die, instead of putting a great black border on their 
memorials to make them look dark, it would be better for us to put 
on gold. 


D. L. Moody. 




88 


THE HOME BEYOND 


DEATH ACCORDING TO PIULO. 



N AN’S bodily form is made from the ground, the soul from 
no created thing, but from the Father of all; so that, 
J T > ‘ man was mortal as to his body, he was immortal as to his 
mind. Complete virtue is the tree of immortal life. “ Vices 
and crimes, rushing in through the gate of sensual pleasure, 
change a happy and immortal life to a wretched and mortal 
one.” Referring to the garden of Eden, he says: “ The death 
threatened for eating the fruit was not natural, the separation of soul 
and body, but penal, the sinking of the soul in the body. Death is 
twofold, one of man, one of the soul. The death of man is the 
separation of the soul from the body; the death of the soul is the 
corruption of virtue and the assumption of vice. To me, death with 
the pious is preferable to life with the impious. For those so dying, 
deathless life delivers; but those so living, eternal death seizes.” 

Philo, "* quoted by Algee. 


THE SOUL DOES NOT SLEEP. 


I cannot agree with some people, that Paul has been sleeping in 
the grave, and is still there, after the storms of eighteen hundred 
years. I cannot believe that he who loved the Master, who 
had such a burning zeal for Him, has been separated from Him in an 
unconscious state, Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast 
given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, 
which Thou hast given me.” This is Christ’s prayer. 

D. L. Moody. 



In the third watch, alert and brave; 

O, joy, the King to see; 

To mark His anxious, scanning look, 
Light up, beholding me! 

The long watch past; the sobbing fight 
Ended; the victory won; 

And, O, for me , His words of praise; 

“<Servant af God, -well done!” 


Unknown. 






OR VIEWS OF HEA VEN. 


89 


WE SHALL REACH THE HAVEN. 


As life advances, it does indeed seem to be as a vessel going to 
pieces, as though we were on the broken fragments of a ship, or in 
a solitary skiff on the waste of waters; but so long as our existence 
lasts we must not give up the duty of cheerfulness and hope. 

The sense that kept us back in youth 
From all intemperate gladness, 

That same good instinct now forbids 
Unprofitable sadness. 

He who has guided us through the day may guide us through the 
night also. The pillar of darkness often turns into a pillar of fire. 
Let us hold on though the land be miles away; let us hold on till the 
morning break. That speck on the distant horizon may be the vessel 
for which we must shape our course. Forwards, not backwards, must 
we steer—forwards and forwards, till the speck becomes a mast, 
and the mast becomes a friendly ship. Have patience and persever¬ 
ance; believe that there is still a future before us; and we shall at last 
reach the haven where we would be 

Dean Stanley. 



THE SOUL DEPARTING. 


Father, when thy child is dying, 

On the bed of anguish lying, 

Then, my every want suppling, 

To me thy love display! 

Ere my soul her bonds hath broken, 

Grant some bright and cheering token, 

That for me the words are spoken, 

“ Thy sins are washed away!” 

When the lips are dumb that blessed me. 

And withdrawn the hand that pierced me, 

Then let sweeter sounds arrest me, 

To call my soul away! 

Guide me to that world of spirits, 

Where through thine atoning merits, 

E’en thy weakest child inherits, 

The joys which ne’er deday. 

Charlotte Elliot 




90 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE HISTORIC DEAD. 



E can think of no snblimer spectacle within the limits of 
flesh and blood than that furnished by a great and pure 
mind, strengthened and adorned by the accumulated 


knowledge of ages, thrilled with the inspiration of its task, 
eager for its work, exposing error, finding and defending 
truth, pleading the cause of justice and right, lifting human 
thought above its usual level, hastening forward the grand march of 
society, working by night and by day to illumine and bless mankind, 
and then through the open gates of eternity ascending to the skies. 
Such men as Chalmers, Edwards, Butler, Wesley, Luther, Calvin, 
and a host of others, illustrate the dignity and glory of human nature, 
developed by culture, stimulated by high motives, and consecrated to 
the interests of eternal truth. The world has much occasion to 
thank God for their existence. In living one life they live forever in 
the results thereof. Posterity feels their moral presence when their 
personal presence is with archangels. They are incarnated in the 
world’s history. What they did while living, lasts when they are 
singing in Heaven. The bare possibility of achieving such a life 
ought to stir every mind with the ardors of the most intense enthusi¬ 
asm. To make a good impression upon the world—an impression 
that shall not only endure, but descend along the current of ages 
with expanding and increasing power, attaching to itself new and 
auxiliary causes of greatness—is an object which any being - may 
well covet, whether man or angel. A life which attains this object 
is a grand success. The actor therein has, as he deserves, a place 
a mong the Historic Dead. 

Rev. Samuel T. Spear, D. D. 


DEATH A TRANSITION. 


I think you will see clearly, from what I have said, that this 
earthly life, when seen hereafter from heaven, will seem like an hour 
past long ago, and dimly remembered; that long, laborious, full of 
joys and sorrows as it is, it will then have dwindled down to a mere 
point, hardly visible to the far-reaching ken of the disembodied 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


91 


spirit. But the spirit itself soars onward. And thus death is neither 
an end nor a beginning. It is a transition, not from one existence to 
another, but from one state of existence to another. No link is 
broken in the chain of being; any more than in passing from infancy 
to manhood, from manhood to old age. There are seasons of reverie 
and deep abstraction, which seems to me analagous to death. The 
soul gradually loses its consciousness of what is passing around it; 
and takes no longer cognizance of objects which are near. It seems 
for the moment to have dissolved its connection with the body. It has 
passed, as it were, into another state of being. It lives in another 
world. It has flown over lands and seas; and holds communion with 
those it loves in the distant regions of the earth, and the more distant 
heaven. It sees familiar faces, and hears beloved voices, which to 
the bodily senses are no longer visible and audible. And this likewise 
is death; save that, when we die, the soul returns no more to the 
dwelling it has left. 

Longfellow. 

IF WE COULD ALL DIE TOGETHER. 


During the past year, how many of my flock have been touched, 
how many have gone out of this church ? You could not keep them, 
Oh! if we could all die together! If w T e could keep all the sheep and 
lambs of the family-fold together, until some bright spring day, the 
birds a-chant, the waters a-glitter, and then we could altogether hear 
the voice of the Good Shepherd, and, hand in hand, pass through the 
flood. But no, no, no. It is one by one. It may be in the midnight 
or spring — it may be alone and suddenly. r Death is a bitter, crushing, 
tremendous curse. I play three tunes on the Gospel harp of comfort. 
“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” 
That is one. “All things work together for good to those who love 
God.” That is the second. “And the Lamb, which is in the midst of 
the throne, shall lead them to living fountains of water, and God shall 
wipe away all tears from their eyes.” That is the third. 

Rev. T. De Witt Talmage, D. D. 




92 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE DEAD ARE OURS STILL. 


1?HAT we need is to banish all haze from our conceptions of 
I ? the reality of that state, so that we can think of it heartily 
% and talk about it to each other with clear eye and open 

if* brow, as we would talk of some great university or gorgeous 
landscape of a foreign land. Thus only can we have any 
comfort when our dearest are transferred hence. What is so 
inspiring, what aspect of our humanity is so lofty and divine, as 
when a Christian mother, over the hallowed clay of a little one, can 
say with assured faith: “This was only the earthly image of an 
innocence, a wonder, and a love that have been withdrawn into the 
deeps of eternal life, into that world of truth and essences and peace 
that is near me in my prayers. Its dawning faculties, which I loved 
so to watch and guide, are more precious to God than to me, and he 
has lifted them to a state of being where a purer light and more 
delightful splendors than the earthly sun sheds or shines upon, 
surround its unfettered spirit. It is mine still through my faith in 
God, and my assurance of the supremacy of spirit over clay” That 
is the way to think of the future world, —not in weak fancy, but in a 
conviction that our powers of thought, feeling, and worship are our 
real substance hera 

Thomas Starr King. 


DEATH BINDS US TOGETHER. 


Even death itself makes life more lovely; It binds us more closely 
ogether while Here. Dr. Thomas Browne has argued that death is 
one of the necessary conditions of human happiness, and supports 
his argument with great force and eloquence. But when death comes 
into a household, we do not philosophize—we only feel. The eyes that 
are full of tears do not see; though in course of time they come to 
see more clearly and brightly than those that have never known sorrow* 

Samuel Smiles. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
VICTOR OVER DEATH. 


93 



UT this dwelling among Christian dead is not altogether 
fearful. These walks are toward heaven. The light of 
the glory bleyond falls on these saintly faces. The upturned 
gaze pierces the heavens. It sees them in bright array, 
washed, calm, jubilant. It sees, and longs to be there. What 
is earth to that sight, song, service, society ? Concord Cemetery, 
Forest Hills, Mt. Auburn, Harmony Grove, suddenly soften their 
wintery aspect to spring-like beauty. The sweet fields beyond sweeten 
this bank of the river. Like the grand entrance to palatial grounds* 
they become fascinating above themselves. They allure to brighter 
worlds, and grow brighter in the allurement. 

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” 
Heaven is no cheap and paltry place. Its inhabitants are no weak 
and worthless populace. It is the Lord’s garden; they are the Lord’s 
friends. “Henceforth,” He says to them, “I call ye not servants, but 
friends, brothers, sisters, joint heirs. My beloved, beloved forever.” 

Cling then to Christ, when you walk among the graves. Rejoice, 
when those you bear thither are His elect, whom He shall call from 
the four ends of heaven. Strengthen yourselves with His divine terror 
and truth. Recognize the awfulness of death, that you may be its 
only possible Victor. Accept the fact in all its horror, and the 
triumph in all its glory eternal. 

Bishop Gilbert Haven. 


DEATH A DIVINE MESSAGE. 


It matters little at what point in the perspective of the future 
the separation enforced by death is thought to cease. Faith and Love 
are careless time-keepers; they have a wide and liberal eye for distance 
and duration; and while they can whisper to each other the words: 
“Meet again,” they can watch and toil with wondrous patience,— 
with spirit fresh and true, and, amid its most grevious loneliness, 
unbereft of one good sympathy. And since the Grave can bury no 
affections now, but only the mortal and familiar shape of their object; 
death has changed its whole aspect and relation to us; and we may 
regard it, not with passionate hate, but with quiet reverence. It is 






94 


THE HOME BEYOND 


a divine message from above, not an invasion from the abyss beneath; 
not the fiendish hand of darkness thrust up to clutch our gladness 
enviously away, but a rainbow gleam that descends through tears, 
without which we should not know the various beauties that are woven 
into the pure light of life. 

Rev. James Martineau. 


ASLEEP IN JESUS. 


REV. THEODORE L. CUYLER, D. D. 



HEN go to sleep, poor, old, hard-worked body, the apostle seems 
to say, and Jesus will wake thee up in good time, and thou 
* shalt be “made like to the body of His glory, according to the 


working whereby He subdues all things unto Himself.” 

Let us not be charged with pushing this Scripture simile too 
far, when we hint that it illustrates the different feelings with 
which different persons regard the act of dying. When we are sleepy 
we covet the pillow and the couch. Even so do we see aged servants 
of God, who have finished up their life-work, and many a suffering 
invalid, racked with incurable pains, who honestly long to die. They 
are sleepy for the rest of the grave and the home beyond it. For 
Christ here, with Christ yonder, is the highest instinct of the Christian 
heart. The noble missionary, Judson, phrased it happily when he 
said: “I am not tired of my work, neither am I tired of the world; yet, 
when Christ calls me home, I shall go with the gladness of a boy 
bounding away from school.” He wanted to toil for souls until he 
proved sleepy , and then he wanted to lay his body down to rest and 
to escape into glory. 

A dying bed is only the spot where the material frame falls 
asleep. Then we take up the slumbering form, and gently bear it to 
its narrow bed in Mother Earth. Our very word “ cemetery ” describes 
this thought. It is derived from the Greek word koimeterion , which 
signifies a sleeping-place. It is a mingled and promiscuous sleeping- 
place; but the Master “knoweth them that are His.” They who 
sleep in Him shall awake to be for ever with the Lord. 

The early Christians were wise in their generation when they 
carved on the tomb of the martyrs “In Jesu Christo obdormivit ”—In 
Jesus Christ he fell asleep. 










OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


95 


The fragrance of this heavenly line perfumes the very air 
around the believer’s resting-place. Giving to the Latin word its 
true pronunciation, there is sweet melody, as well as Heaven-sent 
truth, in this song of the sleepers: 

“ Oh! precious tale of triumph this! 

And martyr-blood shed to achieve it, 

Of suffering past—of present bliss, 

‘ in jesu Christo obdormivit.’ ” 

“ Of cherished dead be mine the trust, 

Thrice-blessed solace to believe it, 

That I can utter o’er their dust, 

‘in jesu Christo obdormivit.’ 

“Now to my loved one’s grave I bring 
My immortelle and interweave it 
With God’s own golden lettering, 

‘ in jesu Christo obdormivit.’ ” 



FILL UP THE RANKS. 


REV. JOHN CUMMING, D. D. 



UT the ranks of our congregation have been thinned by 
translations to the skies. Fill up the ranks. Many 
soldiers are now listening to me. You know that when a 
comrade falls the rest must close up, and those to whom the 
battle is bequeathed must act with the greater energy. We are 
surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. You will not think 
me superstitious when I say that the spirit of our departed brother 
may be the spectator of those that are left behind, and if so, if one 
wave of bliss can rise from so poor a place to so rich a heritage—it 
will be to hear that you have taken up with greater zeal and greater 
energy the good work in which our brethren, who have gone before, 
have been so usefully employed. I have read in the stories of my 
country—and I for one hope its ancient traditions will never be 
forgotten—that one day, in a great battle, the chief of one of the 
powerful clans of the Highlands, fell back and lay on his side. The 
blood ebbed from him, and his clansmen thought he was killed, and 
they began to fall back disheartened—and you know that, be it a 







96 


THE HOME BEYOND 


regiment or a fire brigade, let the chief fall, how faint are all hearts, 
how feeble are all arms—raising himself, with the blood ebbing from 
him, upon his elbow on the green turf where he had fallen, as his 
countrymen always fall, with his back to the field and his feet to the 
foe, he said: “Macdonald, Fm not dead, but I’m watching how my 
children fight.” My dear friends, the great captain of the brigade is 
not dead, but is watching us, his children, and seeing how they walk 
worthy of those “who by faith have inherited the promise.” 


INTO THY HANDS I COMMEND MY SPIRIT. 



AKE my spirit, Lord, and see, as thou art wont, that it has 
no more to bear than it can bear. Am I going to die ? Thou 
knowest, if only from the cry of thy Son, how terrible that 


it is; and if it comes not to me in so terrible a shape as that 
in which it came to him, think how poor to bear I am beside 
him. I do not know what the struggle means; for, of the 
thousands who pass through it every day, not one enlightens his 
neighbor left behind; but shall I not long with agony for one breath 
of thy air, and not receive it ? shall I not be torn asunder with dying f 
•—I will question no more; Father, into thy hands I commend my 
spirit For it is thy business, not mine, Thou wilt know every shade 
of my suffering; thou wilt care for me with thy perfect fatherhood; 
for that makes my sonship, and inwarps and infolds it. As a child I 
could bear great pain when my father was leaning over me, or had 
his arm about me; how much nearer my soul cannot thy hands come! 
—yea, with a comfort, Father of me, that I have never yet even 
imagined; for how shall my imagination overtake thy swift heart? I 
care not for the pain, so long as my spirit is strong, and into thy 
hand I commend that spirit If thy love, which is better than life, 
receive it, then surely thy tenderness will make it great 

Geo. Magdonjlld. 













OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
MOZART’S REQUIEM. 


97 


RUFUS DAWES. 


The tongue of the vigilant clock tolled one, 

In a deep and hollow tone; 

The shrouded moon looked out upon 
A cold, dank region, more cheerless and dun, 

By her lurid light that shone. 

Mozart now rose from a restless bed, 

And his heart was sick with care; 

Though long had he wooingly sought to wed 
Sweet Sleep, ’twas in vain, for the coy maid fled, 
Though he followed her everywhere. 

He knelt to the God of his worship then, 

And breathed a fervent prayer, 

’Twas balm to his soul, and he rose again 
With a strengthened spirit, but started when 
He marked a stranger there. 

He was tall, the stranger who gazed on him,, 
Wrapped high in a sable shroud; 

His cheek was pale, and his eye was dim, 

And the melodist trembled in every limb, 

The while his heart beat loud. 

“ Mozart, there is one whose errand I bear, 

Who cannot be known to thee; 

He grieves for a friend, and would have thee prepare 
A requiem, blending a mournful air 
With the sweetest melody.” 

u I’ll furnish the requiem then,” he cried, 

“ When this moon has waned away.” 

The stranger bowed, yet no word replied, 

But fled like the 6hade on a mountain’s side, 

When the sunlight hides its ray. 

Mozart grew pale when the vision fled, 

And his heart beat high with fear: 

He knew ’twas a messenger sent from the dead, 

To warn him, that soon he must make his bed 
In the dark, chill sepulchre. 

He knew that the days of his life were told, 

And his breast grew faint within; 

The blood through his bosom crept slowly and ©old, 
And his lamp of life could barely hold 
The flame that was flickering. 




98 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Yet he went to his task with cheerful zeal, 

While his days and nights were one; 

He spoke not, he moved not, but only to kneel 
With the holy prayer, “ O God, I feel 
’Tis best thy will be done.” 

He gazed on his loved one, who cherished him well, 
And weepingly hung over him: 

“This music will chime with my funeral knell, 
And my spirit shall float, at the passing bell, 

On the notes of this requiem.’ 

The cold moon waned: on that cheerless day 
The stranger appeared once more; 

Mozart had finished his requiem lay, 

But e’er the last notes had died away, 

His spirit had gone before. 



BURIAL OF MOSES. 


[“And He buried him in the valley of the land of Moab, over against Bethpeoi 
\ut no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day .”— Deut. 34.: 6.~\ 

By Nebo’s lonely mountain, 

On this side Jordan’s wave, 

In a vale in the land of Moab, 

There lies a lonely grave. 

And no man dug that sepulchre, 

And no man saw it e’er; 

For the angels of God upturned the sod 
And laid the dead man there. 

That was the grandest funeral 
That ever passed on earth; 

But no man heard the tramplings 
Or saw the train go forth. 

Noiselessly as the daylight 
Comes when the night is done, 

And the crimson streak on ocean’s cheek 
Grows into the great sun,— 

Noiselessly as the spring-time 
Her crown of verdure weaves: 

And all the trees on all the hills 
Open their thousand leaves,— 

So, without sound of music, 

Or voice of them that wept, 

Silently down from the mountain crown 
The great procession swept. 

Perchance the bald old eagle 
On gray Bethpeor’s height, 

Out of his rocky eyrie 



OB VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


99 


Looked out on the wondrous sight. 
Perchance the lion stalking 
Still shuns that hallowed spot, 

For beast and bird have seen or heard 
That which man knoweth not. 

But when the warrior dieth, 

His comrades in the war 
With arms reversed and muffled drum 
Follow the funeral car. 

They show the banners taken, 

They tell his battles won, 

And after him lead his masterless steed 
While peals the minute gun. 

Amid the noblest of the land 
Men lay the sage to rest, 

And give the bard an honored place 
With costly marble dressed. 

In the great minster transept, 

Where lights like glories fall, 

And the choir sings and the organ rings 
Along the emblazoned wall. 

This was the bravest warrior 
That ever buckled sword; 

This the most gifted poet 
That ever breathed a word; 

And never earth’s philosopher 
Traced with his golden pen, 

On the deathless page truths half so sage 
As he wrote down for men. 

And had he not high honor? 

The hillside for his pall; 

To lie in state while angels wait 
With stars for tapers tall; 

And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes, 
Over his bier to wave; 

And God’s own hand, in that lonely land, 

To lay him in his grave; 

In that deep grave without a name; 

Whence his uncoffined clay 
Shall break again—most wondrous thought, 
Before the judgment day, 

And stand with glory wrapped around, 

On the hills he never trod, 

And speak of the strife that won our life 
With the incarnate Son of God. 

O lonely tomb in Moab’s land, 

O dark Bethpeor’s hill, 

Speak to these curious hearts of ours, 

And teach them to be still. 

God hath His mysteries of grace— 

Ways that we cannot tell; 

He hides them deep like the secret sleep 
Of him He loved so well. 


i 


1. OF C, 


00 


THE HOME BEYOND 


ON THE DEATH OF A MOTHER. 



T length, then, the tenderest of mothers is gone! 

Her smiles, her love accents, can glad thee no more; 
ISgThat once cheerful chamber is silent and lone, 

And for thee all a child’s precious duties are o’er. 

Her welcome at morning, her blessing at night, 

No longer the crown of thy comforts can be; 


And the friend seen and loved since thine eyes first saw 
light 

Thou canst ne’er see again! thou art orphan’d like me. 


Oh, change! from which nature must shrink overpower’d, 

Till faith shall the anguish remove and condemn; 

For the change to those blest ones who “ die in the Lord,” 
Though to us it brings sorrow, gives glory to them. 

Amelia Opie. 






THE DYING MOTHER. 


I do remember, and will ne’er forget 
The dying eye! That eye alone was bright, 

And brighter grew as nearer death approached: 

As I have seen the gentle little flower 

Look fairest in the silver beam which fell 

Reflected from the thunder-cloud, that soon 

Came down, and o’er the desert scattered far 

And wide its loveliness. She made a sign 

To bring her babe—’twas brought, and by her placed: 

She looked upon its face, that neither smiled 

Nor wept, nor knew who gazed upon’t; and laid 

Her hand upon its little breast, and sought 

For it with look that seemed to penetrate 

The heavens, unutterable blessings, such 

As God to dying parents only granted 

For infants left behind them in the world. 

* “ God, keep my child!” we heard her say, and heard 

No more. The Angel of the Covenant 
Was come, and, faithful to His promise, stood 
Prepared to walk with her through death’s dark vale. 
And now her eyes grew bright, and brighter still, 

Too bright for ours to look upon, suffused 
With many tears, and closed without a cloud. 

They set, as sets the morning star, which goes 
Not down behind the darkened west, nor hides 
Obscured among the tempests of the sky, 

But melts away into the light of heaven. 


Robert Pollok. 










OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
DEATH OF GARFIELD. 


101 


E have no Westminster Abbey in which to bury kings, but 
we have a great national heart in which we enshrine those 
who have suffered for our land. Into that great shrine of 
" the national heart we will carry our beloved President, and 

lay him down beside Adams, and Lincoln, and Washington, 
and the other mighty men who loved God and toiled for the 
betterment of the race. Then we will sound forth, partly in requiem 
and partly in grand march of triumph, the words which Garfield 
employed after another famous assasination: “The Lord reigneth. 
Though clouds and darkness are round about Him, righteousness 
and judgment are the habitation of His throne.” God save the 
President! God save the Nation! 

Talma©*;. 

^ <x%> ^ 

MAN’S MORTALITY. 


Like as the damask rose you see, 

Or like the blossom on the tree, 

Or like the dainty flower of May, 

Or like the morning to the day, 

Or like the sun, or like the shade, 

Or like the gourd whieh Jonah had. 

E’en such is man; whose thread is spun, 

Drawn out, and cut, and so is done. 

The rose withers, the blossom blasteth; 

The flower fades, the morning hasteth; 

The sun sets, the shadow flies; 

The gourd consumes, and man—he dies! 

Like to the grass that’s newly sprung, 

Or like a tale that’s new begun, 

Or like the bird that’s here to-day, 

Or like the pearl’d dew of May, 

Or like an hour, or like a span, 

Or like the singing of a swan. 

E’en such is man; who lives by breath, 

Is here, now there, in life and death. 

The grass withers, the tale is ended; 

The bird is flown, the dew’s ascended, 

The hour is short, the span not long: 

The swan’s near death—man’s life is done. 

Simon Wastell. 








102 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THY WILL BE DONE, 




HOUGH dark and heavy sorrow 
Doth cast on thee its spell, 

^And gloomy seems the morrow, 
Remember “ all is well 
Though grief doth hover o’er thee, 
And dark clouds haunt thy sun, 
Keep this sweet prayer before thee: 
“ Father, Thy will be done.” 


Though when life’s bark seems freighted 
With happiness for thee, 

And with bright hopes elated, 

Thy heart with joy may be, 

Affliction’s dark clouds lower, 

And Grief thy heart doth stun, 

Then pray, in that sad hour: 

“ Father, Thy will be done.” 


And when earth’s sorrows round thee, 
Have fallen thick and fast; 

When ties which long have bound thee 
So fondly to the past, 

All sundered are, yet alway 
Whate’er to thee may come, 
Submissive and resigned, pray: 

“ Father, Thy will be done.” 

Whatever in life’s pathway 
May come of good or ill, 

Confiding, thy fond heart may 
Bend to thy Father’s will; 

And when sadly thou dost grieve, 

When all seems dark, yet one 
Comfort’s left for thee, to breathe 
“ Father, Thy will be done.” 


When death strikes down the innocent and young. 
For every fragile form from which he lets 
The parting spirit free, 

A hundred virtues rise, 

In shapes of mercy, charity, and love, 

To walk the world and bless it. 

Of every tear, 

That sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, 
Some good is born, some gentler nature comes. 


Dickens 




























































M^inllUi 



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fcfl 

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; atn>' 

l 1 

II* ” 


T HE WIDOW’S DAUGHTER. 
























































































































^aSESESBSESBBBSESBS^SESESESBSESESESESESBSEHBS^ 

fill if fMl fill 

BIT THE DYING-. 


I ®m; 

I 

V5 ^5HSESaSHSBHH5H5H5H5B5B5H5a5B5ESSS5SH5HHHH5SH^ </ 


THE DYING SEEING DEPARTED FRIEND& 


REV. T. DEWITT TALMAGE, D. D. 



f HERE is one more reason why I am disposed to accept this 
doctrine of future recognition; that is, so many in their last 
hour on earth have confirmed this theory. I speak not of 
P ersons who have been delirious in their last moment and knew 
© not what they were about, but of persons who died in calmness 
and placidity, and who were not naturally superstitious. Often 
the glories of heaven have struck the dying pillow, and the departing 


man has said he saw and heard those who had gone away from him. 
How often it is in the dying moments parents see their departed 
children and children see their departed parents. I came down to 
the banks of the Mohawk River. It was evening, and I wanted to 


go over the river, and so I waved my hat and shouted, and after 
awhile I saw some one waving on the opposite bank, and I heard him 
shout, and the boat came across, and I got in and was transported. 
And so I suppose it will be in the evening of our life. We will come 
down to the river of death and give a signal to our friends on the 
other shore, and they will give a signal back to us, and the boat comes 
and our departed kindred are the oarsmen, the fires of the setting 
day tingling the top of the paddles. 





106 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Oh, have yon ever sat by such a deathbed? In that hour you 
hear the departing soul cry. “Hark! look!” You hearkened and 
looked. A little child, pining away because of the death of its 
mother, getting weaker and weaker every day, was taken into the 
room where hung the picture of her mother. She seemed to enjoy 
looking at it, and then she was taken away, and after awhile died. In 
the last moment that wan and wasted little one lifted her hands, while 
her face lighted up with the glory of the next world, and cried out 
“ Mother!” You tell me she did not see her mother? She did. So 
in my first settlement at Belleville a plain man said to me, “What do 
you think I heard last night ? I was in the room where one of my 
neighbors was dying. He was a good man, and he said he heard the 
angels of God singing before the throne. I haven’t much poetry 
about me, but I listened and I heard them too.” Said I, “I have no 
doubt of it.” Why, we are to be taken up to heaven at last by min¬ 
istering spirits. Who are they to be ? Souls that went up from 
Madras, or Antioch, or Jerusalem ? Oh, no, our glorified kindred are 
going to troop around us. 



VISIONS OF A DYING YOUTH. 


This young man about half-past ten was evidently sinking; but 
he was still able gently to wave his hand, bidding those around him 
Farewell; and he added with a smile—“ Death! where is thy sting? 
grave! where is thy victory?” After a little time he spoke once more, 
to beg all about him would be perfectly still: “Don’t speak, don’t 
speak,’ he feebly uttered, “ I am enjoying deep and blessed communion 
with God.” For above half an hour perfect silence was maintained, 
during which he seemed wrapt in meditation, a smile frequently 
playing about his face. About the end of that time, his head 
gradually fell back, his eye brightened, and as if his ear caught the 
harmonies of the invisible world, he exclaimed in a calm and loud 
voice, expressive of admiration—“Beautiful! beautiful!” A few 
moments more, and then as if the veil had been withdrawn, which 
hides from mortal eye the radiancy of the upper world, he added— 
‘Glory! glory!” And with these words dying on his lips, he fell 
back upon his pillow, and his purified spirit took its flight to heaven. 

This is a description of fact. It is a fact, whether Christianity 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 107 

be true or not. It was the gospel, that sustained and blessed him. 
And we ask for any system to come forward—any system of belief or 
any system of no belief—and let us see anything like that in their 
triumphs and in their results. 

“Let me die the death of the righteous; and let my last end bo 
like his!’ , 


Rev. Thomas Binney, D. D. 


ONLY A. LITTLE BKOOK. 


A simple but very touching incident has been related in connection 
with the last moments of a beautiful little girl in Bath, who died at 
the age of nine. A little while before she died, as the sorrowing 
friends stood around her, watching the last movings of her gentle 
breath, the last faint fluttering of the little pulse, they became aware 
from broken words, that she shrank with natural dread from th« 
unknown way that was opening before her. She had come to tb 
borders of the mysterious river which separates us from the din 
hereafter, and her timid feet seemed to hesitate and fear to stem the flood. 
But after a time her tears subsided, she grew calm, and ceased to talk 
about the long, dark way, till at the very last she brightened suddenly, 
a smile of confidence and courage lighted up her sweet face, “Oh, it 
is only a little brook!” she cried, and so passed over to the heavenly 
shore. 

Bishop Fallows. 


THE DYING CHILD AND HER DEPARTED MOTHER. 


A little girl, in a family of my acquaintance, a lovely and precious 
child, lost her mother at an age too early to fix the loved features in 
remembrance. She was beautiful; and as the bud of her heart un¬ 
folded, it seemed as if won by that mother’s prayers to turn instinctively 
heavenward. The sweet, conscientious, and prayer-loving child, was 
the idol of the bereaved family. But she faded away early. She 
would lie upon the lap of the friend who took a mother’s kind care of 
her, and, winding one wasted arm about her neck, would say, ‘Now 
tell me about my mamma!’ And when the oft-told tale had been 
repeated, she would ask softly, ‘Take me into the parlor; I want to 








108 


THE HOME BEYOND 


see my mamma !’ The request was never refused; and the affectionate 
sick child would he for hours, gazing on her mother’s portrait But 
“ Pale and wan she grew, and weakly— 

Bearing all her pains so meekly, 

That to them she still grew dearer 
As the trial-hour grew nearer.” 

'‘ That hour came at last, and the weeping neighbors assembled 
to sec the child die. The dew of death was already on the flower, as 
Its life-sun was going down. The little chest heaved faintly—spas¬ 
modically. 

“ ‘Do you know me darling ?’ sobbed close in her ear, the voice 
that was dearest; but it awoke no answer; All at once a brightness 
as if from the upper world, burst over the child’s colorless countenance. 
The eyelids flashed open, and the lips parted; the wan, curdling hands 
flew up, in the little one’s last impulsive effort, as she looked 
piercingly into the far above. “‘Mother!’ she cried, with surprise and 
transport in her tone—and passed with that breath to her mother’s 
bosom. 

“ Said a distinguished divine, who stood by that bed of joyous 
death, ‘If I had never believed in the ministration of departed ones 
before, I could not doubt it now.’ 

lf 'Peace I leave with you,’ said the wisest spirit that over passed 
from ^irlh to heaven. Let us be at ‘peace’ amid the spirit-mysteries 
and 'waetio>ings on which his eye soon shed the light of Eternity.” 

Rev. H. Habbau»h. 

I loved them so, 

fhat when the Elder Shepherd of the fold 
Came, covered with the storm, and pale and cold, 

And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold. 

I bade Him go. 

He claimed the pet— 

A little fondling thing, that to my breast 
Clung always, either in quiet or unrest— 

I thought of all my lambs 1 loved him best, 

And yet—and yet— 

I laid him down 

In those white, shrouded arms, with bitter tears; 

For some voice told me that, in after years, 

He should know naught of passion, grief or fears, 

As I had known. 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


109 


DR LOWELL MASON. 


l|i|i||fHAT sweet singer and musical composer, who has done so 
lUSt milc k ^ or popular American church music, Dr. Lowell Mason, 
died but a short time since, at an advanced age. Long years 
*(c er ago he had buried his fir3t-born, a lovely boy, named Daniel. 
C S' About his dying bed friends gathered to watch the ebbing out of 
life. He had taken his final farewell of the loved ones he was 
leaving behind. The spirit was still hovering on the confines of the 
body. Suddenly he opened his eyes. He looked upward with an 
earnest, intent look. “Daniel, may I come?” he said. And then 
with a smile of recognition, he added: “Let me come!” And he 
went Father and son were once more together. 

Bishop Fallows. 



BISHOP D. W. CLARK 


Ik my library is an ably-written book, called “Man all Immortal” 
It was the production of a Valued friend of my earlier Christian 
ministry, Bishop D. W. Clark. In the full vigor of his intellect, he 
received the warning that his days on earth were numbered. I took 
his place, and preached the sermon at the last ministerial gathering 
ne attended With an unclouded mind he came to the river’s brink 
He said to his family and friends: “Our separation will not be a 
complete one. I feel that I shall often be with you, but God in Hitt 
tenderness and loving kindness will permit me to suggest beautiful 
thoughts to you, and lead your minds heavenward. This idea i a very 
present with ma” A few b.our3 before his departure, as if realizing 
erven now, the society of heaven, he said: “Tireless company! 
Tireless song! The song of the angels is a glorious song! It thrffla 
my ears even now! I am going to join the anguls song!” 

Bishop Fallows. 







no 


THE HOME BEYOND 


REV. ALFRED COOKMAN. 


BISHOP FALLOWS. 


||WMONG the passengers of the ill-fated President was Rev. 

bookman, whose eloquence matched that of Sum- 
* m merfield, and whose piety was akin to that of Fenelon. His 
son Alfred, upon whom the father’s mantle fell, trod in the 
footsteps of that honored sire for thirty years, and then entered 
into rest. It was my great privilege to meet with the wife of 
him who, though in a watery grave, had gone where “ there shall be 
no more sea,” and the mother of him who had just gone home 
“ sweeping through the gates into the city, washed in the blood of the 
Lamb,” and with the newly-bereaved widow. Together we talked 
of the departed, but we talked as Christians. 

A few hours before Alfred died, he called his wife to his bedside, 
and informed her that he had seen a glorious vision. There was no 
delirium. He was calm and rational. He said he had not been asleep; 
he knew he was awake, although it seemed to him like a dream. The 
father, who had left him while he was quite young; the brother who 
had preceded him to the better land, and the child, for "whom the 
angels had come sometime before, friends in the Chritstian ministry, 
and others, had appeared to him, and bade him “welcome to the 
skies.” 



THE DYING DAUPHIN. 

The little son of Maria Antoinette, nine years of age, was fast¬ 
ened in a cell, and had his “food thrust through a hole in the upper 
part of the door. Brought out after a year’s confinement, during 
which period that door never once opened, he was brought out to die. 
‘O,’ said he, ‘the music, the music, how fine!’ ‘Where?’ ‘Why, up 
there, up there!’ And again he repeated the exclamation, ‘O, the 
music, how fine! I wish my sister could hear it!’ ‘Music? Where?’ 
again asked his attendants. ‘Up there!’ said the dyi ng dauphin. ‘O 
how fine! I hear my mother's voice among them.’ And with these 
words, he went to join her, whom at that time he did not know to be 
dead.” 



Rev. J. H Potts, D. D. 










































GOD’S ACRE. 

, 


















































































112 


THE HOME BEYOND 


DAUGHTER OF BEY. T. A. GOODWIN, D. D. 


FRIEND of mine, the Rev. Dr. T. A. Goodwin, who has 
given a deeply interesting work to the church and the world 
on “ The Mode of Man’s Mortality,” which I have read and 
:|!pr used with great pleasure, although not agreeing with all he has 
written, gives a personal incident. In the room where his book 
t was written, a daughter, just entering the maturity of woman 
Lood, was called to die. After taking an affectionate farewell of the 
iainily she reached out her hand, cold in death, as if to embrace some 
one unseen fcy the rest With a smile of recognition, she began to 
call by name departed members of the family and others of her 
acquaintance, who had died, adding, after some minutes of such 
greetings, “Here we are, an unbroken family in heaven, washed in 
the blood of the Lamb. Washed, washed, washed I” And in a few 
minutes she was in heaven. 

Bishop Fallows. 

THE PEAK IN DARIEN. 


FRANCES POWER C03BK 


Lf almost every family or circle, a question will elicit recoUeotions 
of death-bod scenes, wherein, with singular recurrence, appears one 
very significant incident—namely, that the dying person, precisely at 
the moment of death, and when the power of speech was lost, or nearly 
lost, seemed to see something; or rather, to speak more exactly, to 
become conscious of something present (for actual sight is out of 
question)—of a very striking kind, which remained invisible to and 
vmperceived by the assistants. Again and again this incident is 
repeated. It is described almost in the same words by persons who 
have never heard of similar occurrences, and who suppose their own 
experience to be unique, and have raised no theory upon it, but merely 
consider it to be “strange,” “ curious,” “ affecting,” and nothing more. 
It is invariably explained, that the dying person is lying quietly, 
when suddenly, in the very act of expiring, he looks up—sometimes 
starts up in bed—and gazes on (what appears to be) vacancy, with an 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


113 


expression of astonishment, sometimes developing instantly into joys 
and sometimes cut short in the first emotion of solemn wonder and 
awe. If the dying man were to see some utterly-unexpected bnt 
instantly-recognized vision, causing him a great surprise, or rapturous 
joy, his face could not better reveal the fact. The very instant this 
phenomenon occurs, Death is actually taking place, and the eyes glaze 
even while they gaze at the unknown sight. If a breath or two still 
heave the chest, it is obvious that the soul has already departed. 

A few narrations of such observations, chosen from a great 
number which have been communicated to the writer, will serve to 
show more exactly the point which it is desired should be established 
by a larger concurrence of testimony. The following are given in 
the words of a friend on whose accuracy every reliance may be placed: 

“I have heard numberless instances of dying persons showing 
unmistakably by their gestures, and sometimes by their words, that 
they saw in the moment of dissolution what could not be seen by 
those around them. On three occasions facts of this nature came 
distinctly within my own knowledge, and I will therefore limit 
myself to a detail of that which I can give on my own authority 
although the circumstances were not so striking as many others known 
to me, which I believe to be equally true. 

“I was watching one night beside a poor man dying of consump¬ 
tion; his case w'as hopeless, but there was no appearance of the end 
being very near; hewasinfull possession of his senses, able to talk with 
a strong voice and not in the least drowsy. He had slept through 
the day and was so wakeful that I had been conversing with him 
on ordinary subjects to while away the long hours. Suddenly, while 
we were thus talking quietly together, he became silent, and fixed his 
eyes on one particular spot in the room, which was entirely vacant, 
even of furniture; at the same time a look of the greatest delight 
changed the whole expression of his face, and after a moment of what 
seemed tc be intense scrutiny of some object invisible to me, he said 
to me in a joyous tone, “There is Jim.” Jim was a little son whom 
he had lost the year before, and whom I had known well, but the dying 
man had a son still living, named John, for whom we had sent, and I 
concluded it was of John he was speaking, and that he thought he 
heard him arriving; so I answered, 

“ ‘No. John has not been able to come.’ 

“The man turned to me impatiently and said, ‘I do not bmod 


114 THE HOME BEYOND 

John, I know he is not here, it is Jim, my little lame Jim; surely you 
remember him ?’ 

“ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I remember dear little Jim who died last year 
quite well.’ 

“ ‘ Don’t you see him then ? There he is,’ said the man, pointing 
to the vacant space on which his eye3 were fixed; and when I did not 
answer, he repeated almost fretfully, ‘Don’t you see him standing 
there ?’ 

“ I answered that I could not see him, though I felt perfectly 
convinced that something was visible to the sick man, which I could 
not perceive. When I gave him this answer he seemed quite amazed 
and turned round to look at me with a glance almost of indignation 
As his eyes met mine, I saw that a film seemed to pass over them, the 
light of intelligence died away, he gave a gentle sigh and expired. 
He did not live five minutes from the time he first said, ‘ There is Jim,’ 
although there had been no sign of approaching death previous to 
that moment. 

“ The second case was that of a boy about fourteen years of age, 
dying also of decline. He was a refined, highly educated child, who 
throughout his long illness had looked forward with much hope and 
longing to the unknown life to which he believed he was hastening 
On a bright summer morning it became evident that he had reached 
his last hour. He lost the power of speech, chiefly from weakness, 
but he was perfectly sensible, and made his wishes known to us by 
his intelligent looks. He was sitting propped up in bed, and had 
been looking rather sadly at the bright sunshine playing on the trees 
outside his open window for some time. He had turned away from 
this scene, however, and was facing the end of the room, where there 
was nothing whatever but a closed door, when all in a moment the 
whole expression of his face changed to one of the most wondering 
rapture, which made his half-closed eyes open to their utmost extent 
while his lips parted with a smile of perfect ecstasy; it was impossible 
to doubt that some glorious sight was visible to him, and from the 
movement of his eyes it was plain that it was not one but many objects 
on which he gazed, for his look passed slowly from end to end of 
what seemed to be the vacant wall before him, going back and forward 
with ever-increasing delight manifested in his whole aspect. His 
mother then asked him if what he saw was some wonderful sight 
beyond the confines of this world, to give her a token that it was 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


115 


by pressing her hand. He at once took her hand, and pressed it 
meaningly; giving thereby an intelligent affirmative to her question, 
though unable to speak. As he did so a change passed over his 
face, his eyes closed, and in a few minutes he was gone. 

“ The third case, which is that of my own brother, was very sim¬ 
ilar to this last. He was an elderly man, dying of a painful disease, 
but one which never for a moment obscured his faculties. Although 
it was known to be incurable, he had been told that he might live 
some months, when somewhat suddenly the summons came on a dark 
January morning. It had been seen in the course of the night that 
he was sinking, but for some time he had been perfectly silent and 
motionless, apparently in a state of stupor; his eyes closed and breath¬ 
ing scarcely perceptible. As the tardy dawn of the winter morning 
revealed the rigid features of the countenance from which life and 
intelligence seemed to have quite departed, those who watched him 
felt uncertain whether he still lived; but suddenly, while they bent 
over him to ascertain the truth, he opened his eyes wide, and gazed 
eagerly upward with such an unmistakable expression of wonder and 
joy, that a thrill of awe passed through all who witnessed it. His 
whole face grew bright with a strange gladness, while the eloquent 
eyes seemed literally to shine as if reflecting some light on which they 
gazed; he remained in this attitude of delighted surprise for some 
minutes, then in a moment the eyelids fell, the head drooped forward, 
and, with one long breath, the spirit departed.” 

A different kind of case to those above narrated by my friend 
was that of a young girl known to me, who had passed through the 
miserable experiences of a sinful life at Aldershot, and then had tried 
to drown herself in the river Avon, near Clifton. She was in some 
<vay saved from suicide, and placed for a time in a penitentiary; but 
her health was found to be hopelessly ruined, and she was sent to die 
in the quaint old workhouse of St. Peter’s at Bristol. For many 
months she lay in the infirmary literally perishing piecemeal of 
disease, but exhibiting patience and sweetness of disposition quite 
wonderful to witness. She was only eighteen, poor young creature! 
when all her little round of error and pain had been run; and her 
innocent, pretty face might have been that of a child. She never 
used any sort of cant (so common among women who have been in 
Refuges), but had apparently somehow got hold of a very living and 
real religion, which gave her comfort and courage, and inspired her 


116 


THE HOME BEYOND 


with the beautiful spirit with which she bore her frightful sufferings 
On the wall opposite her bed I had hung by chance a print of the 

“Lost Sheep,” and Mary S-, looking at it one day, said to me, 

“That is just what I was, and what happened to me; but I am being 
brought safe home now.” For a long time before her death, 
her weakness was such that she was quite incapable of lifting 
herself up in bed, or of supporting herself when lifted, and she, of 
oourse, continued to lie with her head on the pillow while In e gradually 
and painfully ebbed away, and she seemingly became nearly unoon 
scious. In this state she had been left one Saturday night by the 
nurse in attendance. Early at dawn next morning an Easter 
morning, as it chanced—the poor old women who occupied the other 
beds in the ward were startled from their sleep by seeing Mary S—— 
suddenly spring up to a sitting posture in her bed, with her arms 
outstretched and her face raised, as if in a perfect rapture of joy and 
welcome. The next instant the body of the poor girl fell back a 
corpse. Her death had taken place in that moment of mysterious 
ecstasy. 

A totally different case again was told me by the daughter of a 
man of high intellectual distinction, well-known in the world of 
letters. When dying peacefully, as became the close of a profoundly 
religious life, he was observed by his daughter suddenly to look up 
as if at some spectacle invisible to those around, with an expression 
of solemn surprise and awe, very characteristic, it is said, of his ha¬ 
bitual frame of mind. At that instant, and before the look had time 
to falter or change, the shadow of death passed over his face, and the 
end had come. 

In yet another case I am told that at the last moment so bright 
alight seemed suddenly to shine from the face of the dying man, 
that the clergyman and another friend who were attending him actu¬ 
ally turned simultaneously to the window to seek for the cause. 

Another incident of a very striking character was described as 
having occurred in a family, united very closely by affection. A ‘ly¬ 
ing lady, exhibiting the aspect of joyful surprise to which we have 
so often referred, spoke of seeing, one after another, three of her 
brothers long since dead, and then apparently recognized last of 
all a fourth brother, who was believed by the bystanders to be still 
living in India. The coupling of his name with that of his dead 
brothers excited such awe and horror in the mind of one of the per- 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


117 


sons present, that she rushed from the room. In due course of time 
letters were received announcing the death of the brother in India, 
which had occurred some time before his dying sister seemed to rec¬ 
ognize him. 

Again, in another case one who had lost his only son some years 
previously, and who had never recovered the afflicting event exclaimed 
suddenly when dying, with the air of a man making a most raptur¬ 
ous discovery, “I see him! I see him !” 

Not to multiply such anecdotes too far—anecdotes which cer¬ 
tainly possess a uniformity pointing to some similar cause, whether 
that cause be physiological or psychical—I will now conclude with 
one authenticated by a near relative of the persons concerned. A 
late colonial Bishop was commonly called by his sisters “Charlie,” and 
his eldest sister bore the pet name of “Liz.” They had both been 

dead for some years, when their younger sister, Mrs. W-, also 

died, but before her death appeared to behold them both. While ly¬ 
ing still and apparently unconscious, she suddenly opened her eyes 
and looked earnestly across the room as if she saw some one enter¬ 
ing. Presently, as if overjoyed, she exclaimed, “ O Charlie!” and 
then, after a moment’s pause, with a new start of delight, as if he 
had been joined by some one else, she went on, “And Liz!” and then 
added, “How beautiful you are!” After seeming to gaze at the two 
beloved forms for a few minutes, she fell back on her pillow and died 

An instance in many respects especially noteworthy,—of a simi¬ 
lar impression of the presence of the dead conveyed through another 
sense besides sight, is recorded in Caroline Fox’s charming “ Jour- 
nals,” Yol. II, p. 247. She notes under date September 5th, 1856, as 
follows:— 

“M. A. Schimmelpennick is gone. She said just before her death, 
‘Oh, I hear such beautiful voices, and the children’s are loudest.’ ” 

Can any old Italian picture of the ascending Madonna, with the 
cloud of cherub heads forming a glory of welcome around her as she 
enters the higher world, be more significant than this actual fact—so 
simply told—of a saintly woman in dying hearing “ beautiful voices, 
and the children’s the loudest ?” Of course, like all the rest it may 
have been only a physiolgical phenomenon, a purely subjective im¬ 
pression; but it is at least remarkable that a second sense should thus 
be under the same glamour,—and that again, we have to confront, in 
the case of hearing as of sight, the anomaly of the (real or supposed) 



118 


THE HOME BEYOND 


presence of the beautiful and the delightful, instead of the terrible 
and the frightful, while Nature is in the pangs of dissolution. Does 
the brain, then, unlike every unknown instrument, give forth its 
sweetest music as its chords are breaking ? 

- - — 

THE EEVELATIONS TO THE DYING. 

BISHOP D. W, CLARK, D. D. 


Is there not a large class of facts which have a most distinct and 
impressive bearing upon the relation that exists between the present 
and the eternal world and the revelations that may be made to the 
soul while in its transition state? Said a dying Sunday-school 
scholar from my flock, while in the very article of death, but with 
perceptive and reasoning powers still unimpaired, “ The angels have 
come.” The pious Blumhardt exclaimed, “Light breaks in! 
Hallelujah! ” and expired. Dr. McLain said, “ I can now contemplate 
clearly the grand scene to which I am going.” Sargent, the biogra¬ 
pher of Martin, with his countenance kindled into a holy fervor, and 
his eye beaming with unearthly lustre, fixed his gaze as upon a 
definite object, and exclaimed, “ That bright light!” and when asked 
what light, answered, “ The light of the Sun of righteousness.” The 
Lady Elizabeth Hastings, a little before she expired, cried out, with a 
beaming countenance and enraptured voice, “ Lord, what is it that I 
see ? ” and Olympia Morata, an exile for her faith, as she sank in 
death, exclaimed, “ I distinctly behold a place filled with ineffable 
light!” Dr. Bateman, a distinguished physician and philosopher, 
died exclaiming, “ What glory!' the angels are waiting for me! ” In 
the midst of delirium, Bishop Wilson was transported with the vision 
of angels. Not unfrequently the mind is filled with the most 
striking conceptions of the presence of departed friends. Most 
touching is the story of Carnaval, who was long known as a 
lunatic wandering about the streets of Paris. His reason had 
been unsettled by the early death of the object of tender 
and most devoted affections. He could never be made m 
comprehend that she was dead; but spent his life in the vain 
search for the lost object of his love. In most affecting terms 
he would mourn her absence, and chide her long delay. Thus 




OK VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


119 


life wore away; and when its ebbing tide was aimost exhausted, 
starting as from a long and unbroken revery, the countenance of the 
dying man was overspread with sudden joy, and stretching forth his 
arms, as if he would clasp some object before him, he uttered the 
name of his long-lost love, and exclaiming, “Ah, there thou art at 
last! ” expired. The aged Hannah More, in her dying agony, 
stretching out her arms as though she would grasp some object, 
uttered the name of a much-loved deceased sister, cried, “Joy! ” 
and then sank down into the arms of death. 

“Then, then I rose; then first, humanity 
Triumphant pass’d the crystal ports of light, 

Stupendous guest, and seized eternal youth.” 

Young. 


HEAVEN—NOT FAK AWAY. 


Oh, heaven is nearer than mortals think, 

When they look with trembling dread, 

At the misty future that stretches on, 

From the silent home of the dead. 

The eye that shuts in a dying hour, 

Will open the next in bliss, 

The welcome will sound in the heavenly world 
Ere the farewell is hushed in this. 

We pass from the clasp of mourning friends, 

To the arms of the loved and lost; 

And those smiling faces will greet us there, 
Which on earth we have valued most. 

Yet oft in the hours of holy thought, 

To the thirsting soul is given, 

That power to pierce through the mist of sense, 
To the beauteous scenes of heaven. 

I know when the silver cord is loosed, 

When the vail is rent away, 

Not long and dark shall the passage be, 

To the realm of endiess day. 





/ 






v 



> 



TOT I-4S T QUIET BESTING PLACE- 










































THE DYING HUSBAND. 


LEIGH HUHT. 


Scrhe.- A female string by a bedside , anxiously looking at the face ef her 

husband, just dead. Tfie soul -witkin the dead body soliloquizes. 

HAT change is this! What joy! What depth of rest! 
What suddenness of withdrawal from all pain 
Into all bliss! into a balm so perfect 
I do not even smile! I tried but now, 

With that breath’s end, to speak to the dear face 
That watches me—and lo! all in an instant, 

Instead of toil, and a weak, weltering tear, 

I am all peace, all happiness, all power, 

Laid on some throne in space.—Great God! I am dead! 

[A fausei] Dear God! Thy love is perfect; Thy truth unknown. 
[Another. \ And He,—and they,—How simple and strange! How 
beautiful! 

But I may whisper it not,—even to thought, 

Lest strong imagination, hearing it. 

Speak, and the world be shattered. 

[Soul again pauses.] O balm! O bliss! O saturating smile 
Unranishing l O doubt ended! certainty 
Begun! O will, faultless, yet all indulged, 

Encouraged to be wilful;—to delay 
Even its wings for heaven;—and thus to rest 
Here, here, ev’n here,—’twixt heaven and earth awhile, 

A bed In the morn of endless happiness. 

I feel warm drops falling upon my face; 

_My wife! my love 1—’tis for the best thou canst not 

Know how I know thee weeping, and how fond 
A kiss meets thine in these unowning lips. 

121 








122 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Ah, truly was my love what thou didst hope it, 

And more; and so w?is thine—I read it all— 

And our small feuds were but impatiences 
At seeing the dear truth all understood. 

Poor sweet! thou blamest now thyself, and heapest 
Memory on memory of imagined wrong, 

As I should have done too,—as all who love, 

And yet I cannot pity thee:—so well 
I know the end, and how thou’lt smile hereafter. 

She speaks my name at last, as though she feared 
The terrible, familiar sound; and sinks 
In sobs upon my bosom. Hold me fast, 

Hold me fast, sweet, and from the extreme grow calm,— 
Be cruelly unmoved, and yet how loving! 

How wrong was I to quarrel with poor James! 

And how dear Francis mistook me! That pride, 

How without ground it was! Those arguments 
Which I supposed so final, O how foolish! 

Yet gentlest Death will not permit rebuke, 

Ev’n of one’s self. They’ll know all, as I know, 

When they lie thus. 

Colder I grow, and happier. 
Warmness and sense are drawing to a point, 

Ere they depart;—myself quitting myself. 

The soul gathers its wings upon the edge 
Of the new world, yet how assuredly! 

Oh! how in balm I change! actively willed, 

Yet passive, quiet; and feeling opposites mingle 
In exquisitest peace!—Those fleshy clothes, 

Which late I thought myself , lie more and more 
Apart from this warm, sweet retreating me, 

Who am as a hand, withdrawing from a glove. 

So lay my mother, so my father; so 
My children: yet I pitied them. I wept, 

And fancied them in their graves, and called them “poor!’ 

O graves! O tears! O knowledge, will, and time, 

And fear, and hope! what pretty terms of earth 

Were ye! yet how I love ye as of earth 

The planet’s household words; and how postpone, 

Till out of these dear arms, th’ immeasurable 
Tongue of the all-possessing smile eternal! 

Ah, not excluding these, nor aught that’s past, 

Nor aught that’s present, nor that yet’s to come, 

Well waited for. I would not stir a finger 
Out of this rest, tore-assure all anguish; 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


123 


Such warrant hath it; such divine conjuncture; 

Such a charm binds it with the needs of bliss. 

That was my eldest boy’s—that kiss. And that 
The baby with its little unweening mouth; 

And those—and those—Dear hearts—they have all come 
And think me dead—me, who so now I’m living, 

The vitalest creature in this fleshy room. 

I part, and w ith my spirit’s eye full opened 
Will look upon them. 

[Spirit parts from the body , and breathes upon their eyes.] 
Patient be those tears, 

Fresh heart-dews, standing on these dear clay-moulds. 

I quit ye but 

To meet again, and will revisit soon 
In many a dream, and many a gentle sigh. 



SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 



HE eminent Dr. Doddridge writes concerning the great phi. 
losopher. “According to the best information,” “whether 
public or private, I could ever obtain, his firm faith in the 
Divine Revelation discovered itself in the most genuine fruits of 
substantial virtue and piety, and consequently gives us the just- 
est reason to conclude, that he is now rejoicing in the happy 
effects of it, infinitely more than all the applause which his philosoph¬ 
ical works have procured him, though they have commanded a fame 
lasting as the world.” 


“ Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, 

Who stand upon the threshold of the new.” 

Waller. 


Threescore and ten, by common calculation, 
The years of man amount to—but we’ll say 
He turns forescore; yet in my estimation, 

In all those years he has not liven a day, 


J. R. Planche. 






















































































































































































































































































































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


125 


DR. GUTHRIE. 



HAT grand and eloquent old Scotchman, Dr. Guthrie, whose 
sermons so full of rich illustrations have been the comfort 
of hundreds of thousands, said just before his death: 
“ They tell me I am old. It is not so. I am as young to-day 
as ever I was. It is true these knees are becoming feeble, and 
these limbs are somewhat palsied, and these eyes are growing 
dim; but these eyes are not I, myself, these limbs are not myself. 
This body is only the house in which I now live. But it will soon be 
taken down, and then I will appear in another and a better house.” 

Bishop Fallows. 


REV. EDWARD PAYSON, D. D. 


Da. Payson wrote to a friend just before dying “ I might date 
this letter from the land of Beulah, of which I have been some weeks 
a happy inhabitant. The celestial city is in full view. Its glories 
beam upon me; its odors are wafted to me; its sounds strike my ear, 
and its spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing separates me from 
it but the river of death, which now appears but an insignificant rill 
which may be crossed at a single step.” 

Rev. Dr. Olin, President of the W T esleyan University at Middle 
town, Conn., a giant in frame, and a giant in intellect, whose name is 
a household word in the Methodist Church, retired from his deeply 
loved classes, to linger a few months and die. During the early part 
of his sickness, while he was yet able to walk the room, a sweet 
young child, two years of age, sickened and sank rapidly. One day 
it beckoned to its father to take it up. He took it out of its crib, 
and carried it for a little while, then with failing strength he put it in 
the crib again. Just as he was doing so, the baby said: “Papa, 
kiss baby!” He did so tenderly. Then it said: “God take baby!/ 
and in a few moments the struggle was over. In a few weeks the 
father followed. He said to his wife: “I am about to die. In a 
few days you will lay this body in the grave. Do not say you have 
buried your husband Your husband will be in heaven.” 

Bishop Fallows. 








126 


THE HOME BEYOND 
KEY. PROF. HENRY B. SMITH, D. D. 


^fel?HEN Professor Henry B. Smith was almost gone—beyond 
AM r the power of recognizing by sight his most familiar friends 
—the Rev. Hr. Goodwin, a close associate from boyhood, 
Pcame on from Philadelphia to New York to bid the departing 
sufferer a last good-bye, but was not recognized as he came 
to the bedside. “ Ho you not know me, Henry ?” he asked. 
“Yes: I know the finest thread of that intonation and respond to it,” 
was the immediate and distinct reply. That dying faintness cannot 
be the end of such a spirit’s being. Friendships like this, made 
perfect in Christ, must live and strengthen forever. Nor will souls 
so attuned to each other find any barrier to reunion in whatever may 
be the new and strange conditions of the future life. They will find 
their other selves as naturally as “ kindred drops which mingle into 
one.” The wife of Baron Bunsen writes.of her dying husband: “In 
that night I beheld the last full brilliance of eye and smile, when he 
repeated his solemn farewell, believing death to be at hand: ‘Love, 
love—we have loved each other; love cannot cease; love is eternal; 
the love of God is eternal; live in the love of God and Christ; those 
who live in the love of God shall find each other again, though we 
know not how; we cannot be parted long, we shall meet again.” 


When John Holland died, it was about five or six in the evening, 
the shadow of night was gathering around, and it was growing 
darker and darker. When near the last moment he looked up, and 
“ What is this ? What is this strange light in 
they lighted the candles, Martha?” “No,” she 


said to the family: 
the room ? Have 


said. He replied: “Then it must be heaven. 


Welcome, heaven.” 

Talmage. 


Mr. Moody relates the following incident: Buring the late war 
a young man lay on a cot, and they heard him say, “ Here, and some 
one went to his cot and wanted to know what he wanted, and he said, 
“Hark! hush! don’t you hear them?” “Hear who?” was asked 
“ They are calling the roll of heaven,” he said, and pretty soon he 
answered, “ Here!”—and he was gone. 








OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


127 


FOLDING THE LAMBS IN HIS BOSOM 


The Savior folds a lamb in His bosom. The little child filled all 
the house with her music, and her toys are scattered all up and down 
the stairs just as she left them. What if the hand that plucked four 
o’clocks out of the meadow is still? It will wave in the eternaJ 
triumph. What if the voice that made music f in the home is still ? 
It will sing the eternal hosanna. Put a white rose in one hand, and 
a red rose in the other hand, and a wreath of orange blossoms on the 
brow; the white flower for the victory, the red flower for the Savior’s 
sacrifice, the orange blossoms for her marriage day. Anything ghastly 
about that? Oh, no. The sun went down and the flower shut. 
The wheat threshed out of the straw. “ Dear Lord, give me sleep,” said 
a dying boy, the son of one of my elders, “dear Lord, give me sleep,” 
And he closed his eyes and awoke in glory. Henry W. Longfellow 
writing a letter of condolence to those parents, said: “ Those last words 
were beautifully poetic.” And Mr. Longfellow knew what is poetic* 
“ Dear Lord give me sleep.” 

“ ’Twas not in cruelty, not in wrath 
That the reaper came that day; 

’Twas an angel that visited the earth 
And took the flower away ” 

So it may be with us when our work is all done. “Dear Lord 
give me sleep.” 

Talmage. 


BEING THE CHILDEEN HOME. 


A mother died in one of our Eastern cities a few years ago, 
and she had a large family of children. She died of consumption, 
and the children were brought in to her when she was dying. As the 
oldest one was brought in she gave it her last message and her dying 
blessing; and as the next one was brought in she put her hand upon 
its head and gave it her blessing; and then the next one was brought 
in, and the next, lintil at last they brought in the little infant. She 
took it to her bosom and pressed it to her loving heart, and her friends 
saw that it was hastening her end; that she was excited, and as they 
went to take the little child from her she said: “My husband, I charge 




128 


THE HOME BEYOND 


you to bring all these children home with you.” And so God charges 
us as parents to bring our children home with us; not only to have 
our own names written in heaven, but those of our children also. 

D. L. Moody. 


GOING TO JESUS. 



N eminent Christian worker in New York, told me a story 
that affected me very much. 

A father had a son who had been sick some time, but he 
did not consider him dangerous; until one day he came home 
to dinner and found his wife weeping, and he asked, “What is 
the trouble ?” 


“ There has been a great change in our boy since morning,” 
the mother said, “ and I am afraid that he is dying; I wish you to go 
in and see him, and, if you think he is, I wish you to tell him so, for 
I cannot bear to tell him.” 

The father went in and sat down by the bedside, and he placed 
his hand upon his forehead, and he could feel the cold, damp sweat 
of death, and knew its cold, icy hand was feeling for the chords of 
life, and that his boy was soon to be taken away, and he said to him: 

“.My son, do you know you are dying ?” 

The little fellow looked up at him and said: 

“ No; am I? Is this death that I feel stealing over me, father?” 

“Yes, my son, you are dying.” 

“ Will I live the day out?” 

“No; you may die at any moment.” 

He looked up to his father and he said; “Well, I will be with Jesua 
to-night, won’t I, father?” 

And the father answered: “Yes my boy, you will spend to-night 
with the Savior,” and the father turned away to conceal the tears, 
that the little boy might not see him weep; but he saw the tears, and 
he said: 

“Father, don’t you weep for me; when I get to heaven I will go 
straight to Jesus and tell Him that ever since I can remember, you 
have tried to lead me to Him.” 


D. L. Moody. 






'>nn 





mm 






DAYID SWING 

























130 


THE HOME BEYOND 


WHITEEIELD’S DEATH. 


REV. ABEL STEVENS, D. D. 


AID Sir John Herschel, “I could see Sirius announcing 
himself,” as he swept the heavens with his telescope, in 
search of Sirius, “ till the great star rushed in and filled the 
whole field of vision with a sea of light.” The time came 
Whitefield to die. The man had been immortal till his work 
done. His path had been bright, and it grew brighter to 
end, like that of the just. 

“You had better be in bed, Mr. Whitefield.” said his host, the 
day he preached his last sermon. 

“ True,” said the dying evangelist, and clasping his hands, cried: 
“ I am weary in, not of, thy work, Lord Jesus.” 

He preached his last sermon at Newburyport, pale and dying; he 
herein uttered one of the most pathetic sentences which ever came to 
his lips: 

“I go to my everlasting rest. My sun has risen, shone, and is 
setting—nay, it is about to rise and shine forever. I have not lived 
in vain. And though I could five to preach Christ a thousand years 
I die to be with Him—which is far better.” 

The shaft was levelled. That day he said: “I am dying!” He 
ran to the window; lavender drops were offered, but all help was vain; 
his work was done. The doctor said, “He is a dead man.” And so 
he was; and died in silence. Christ required no dying testimony from 
one whose life had been a constant testimony. 

So passed away on September 30th, 1770, one of the greatest 
spirits that ever inhabited a human tabernacle. The world has ever been 
an innumerable gainer by his life. He had preached eighty thousand 
sermons, and they had but two key-notes: 1. Man is guilty, he must 
be pardoned. 2. Man is immortal, he must be happy or wretched 
forever. Weeping filled Newburyport, flags floated at half-mast, and 
the ships fired minute-guns. 

“ Mortals cried, a man is dead; 

Angels sang, a child is born.” 

Rev. Daniel Rodgers, remembering in his prayer that Whitefield 
had been his spiritual father, burst into tears, and cried: “My father! 
my father! the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof.” 









D 









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'THE BROOKLYN TABERNACLE (T DeWitt Talmage, Pastoai 
































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 

THE CHILD IS DEAD. 


REV. S. IREN.EUS PRIME, D.D. 


child is dead. You may put away its playthings, 
it them where they will be safe. I would not like 
have them broken or lost; and you need not lend 
em to other children when they come to see us. It 
would pain me to see them in other hands, much as I 
love to see children happy with their toys. 

Its clothes you may lay aside; I shall often look them over, 
and each of the colors that he wore will remind me of him as he 
looked when he was here. I shall weep often when I think of 
him; but there is a luxury in thinking of the one that is gone, 
which I would not part with for the world. I think of my child 
now, a child always, though an angel among angels. 

The child is dead. The eye has lost its lustre. The hand 
is still and cold. Its little heart is not beating now. How pale 
it looks! Yet the very f rm is dear to me. Every lock of its 
hair, every feature of the face, is a treasure that I shall prize 
the more as the months of my sorrow come and go. 
































THE HOME BEYOND 


LUCY. 


REV. HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 


LL night long we watched the ebbing life, 
As if its flight to stay; 

Till as the dawn was coming up, 

Our last hope passed away. 

She was the music of our home, 

A day that knew no night, 

The fragrance of our garden bower, 

A thing all smiles and light. 

Above the couch we bent and prayed, 

In the half-lighted room; 

As the bright hues of infant life 
Sank slowly into gloom. 

Each flutter of the pulse we marked, 

Each quiver of the eye; 

To the dear lips our ear we laid, 

To catch the last low sigh. 

We stroked the little sinking cheeks, 

The forehead pale and fair; 

We kissed the small, round, ruby mouth 
For Lucy still was there. 

We fondly smoothed the scattered curl*, 

Of her rich golden hair; 

We held the gentle palm in ours, 

For Lucy still was there. 

At last the fluttering pulse stood still, 

The death-frost through her clay 

Stole slowly; and, as morn came up, 

Our sweet flower passed away. 

The form remained; but there was now 
No soul our love to share; 

No warm responding lip to kiss; 

For Lucy was not there. 

Farewell, with weeping hearts we said, 
Child of our love and care! 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


135 


And then we ceased to kiss those lips, 

For Lucy was not there. 

But years are moving quickly past, 

And time will soon be o’er; 

Death shall be swallowed up in life 
On the immortal shore. 

Then shall we clasp that hand once more, 
And smooth that golden hair; 

Then shall we kiss those lips again, 

When Lucy shall be there. 


THE DEATH ANGEL. 


Within her downy cradle there lay a little child, 

And a group of hovering angels unseen upon her smiled; 

A strife arose among them, a loving, holy strife, 

Which should shed the richest blessing o’er the new-born life. 

One breathed upon her features, and the babe in beauty grew, 

With a cheek like morning’s blushes, and an eye of azure hue; 

Till every one who saw her, was thankful for the sight 
Of a face so sweet and radiant with ever fresh delight. 

Another gave her accents, and a voice as musical 

As a spring bird’s joyous carol, or a rippling streamlet’s fall; 

Till all who heard her laughing, or her words of childish grace 
Loved as much to listen to her, as to look upon her face. 

Another brought from heaven a clear and gentle mind, 

And within the lovely casket the precious gem enshrined; 

Till all who knew her wondered, that God should be so good, 

As to bless with such a spirit our desert world and rude. 

George W. Bethune, . 1 . D 



“ How speeds, from in the river’s thought, 
The spirit of the leaf that falls, 

Its heaven in that calm bosom wrought, 

As mine among yon crimson walls! 
From the dry bough it spins, to greet 
Its shadow on the placid river: 

So might I my companions meet, 

Nor roam the countless worlds forever!” 




136 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS. 


HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 


HERE is a Reaper whose name is Death, 

And with his sickle keen, 

He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, 

And the flowers that grow between. 

“ Shall I have naught that is fair?” said he, 

“ Have naught but the bearded grain? 

Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me. 
I will give them all back again.” 

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes; 

He kissed their drooping leaves; 

It was for the Lord of paradise 
He bound them in his sheaves. 

“ My Lord hath need of these flowerets gay,” 

The reaper said, and smiled; 

“ Dear tokens of the earth are they, 

Where he was once a child. 

“ They shall all bloom in fields of light, 
Transplanted by my care, 

And saints upon their garments white, 

These sacred blossoms wear.” 

And the mother gave in tears and pain 
The flowers she most did love; 

She knew she should find them all again 
In the fields of light above. 

Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 

The reaper came that day; 

’Twas an angel visited the green earth, 

And took the flowers away! 



“If yonder stars be fill’d with forms of breathing clay V.'ie ours, 
Perchance the space which spreads between is for a spirit's powers.” 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

BEAR THEM TO THEIR REST. 

REV. GEORGE W. BETHUNE, D. D. 


Yes! bear them to their rest; 

The rosy babe tired with the glare of day, 

The prattler fallen asleep even in his play; 

Clasp them to thy soft br.east, 

O Night, 

Bless them in dreams with a deep-hushed delight! 

Yet must they wake again; 

Wake soon to all the bitterness of life, 

The pang of sorrow, the temptation strife, 

Aye, to the conscience-pain. 

O night, 

Canst thou not take with them a longer flight? 

Canst thou not bear them far, 

Ev’n now all innocent, before they know 
The taint of sin, its consequence of woe, 

The world’s distracting jar, 

O Night, 

To some eternal, holier, happier height? 

Canst thou not bear them up, 

Through star-lit skies, far from this planet dim 
And sorrowful, ev’n while they sleep, to Him, 

Who drank for us the cup, 

O Night, 

The cup of wrath for souls in faith contrite? 

To him, for them who slept 
A babe all lowdy on his mother’s knee, 

And, from that hour to cross-crowned Calvary, 

In all our sorrows wept, 

O Night, 

That on our souls might dawm heaven’s cheering light? 

Go lay their little heads 
Close to that human breast, with love Divine 
Deep beating; while his arms immortal twine 
Around them as he sheds, 

O Night, 

On them a brother’s grace of God’s own boundless might. 


137 


Let them, immortal, wake 
Among the deathless flowers of Paradise, 




138 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Where angels’ songs of welcome with surprise 
This their last sleep may break, 

O Night, 

And to celestial joys their kindred souls invite. 

There can come no sorrow; 

The brow shall know no shade, the eye no tears: 

For ever young through heaven’s eternal years 
In one unfading morrow, 

O Night, 

Nor sin, nor age, nor pain, their cherub beauty blight. 

Would we could sleep as they 
So stainless and so calm; at rest with thee, 

And only wake in immortality. 

Bear us with them away, 

O Night, 

To that eternal, holier, happier height. 



“OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM.” 


I dearly love a little child, 

And Jesus loved young children too; 

He ever sweetly on them smiled, 

And placed them with his chosen few. 

When, cradled on its mother’s breast, 

A babe was brought to Jesus’ feet, 

He laid his hand upon its head. 

And blessed it with a promise sweet. 

“ Forbid them not!” the Savior said, 

“ Oh! suffer them to come to me! 

Of such my heavenly kingdom is— 

Like them may all my followers be!” 

Young children are the gems of earth. 

The brightest jewels mothers have; 

They sparkle on the throbbing breast, 

But brighter shine beyond the grave. 

Mrs. Mary S. B. Dana. 

O Thou, whose infant feet were found 
Within thy Father’s shrine, 

Whose years, with changeless virtue crowned, 

Were all alike divine. 


Reginald Heber. 



on VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


139 


CHRIST RECEIVES CHILDREN INTO HEAVEN. 


If He who has the keys of death and of the unseen world sees fit, 
to remove those dear creatures from us in their early days, let the 
remembrance of the story of Christ taking them up in his arms and 
blessing them comfort us, and teach us to hope that he who so gra¬ 
ciously received these children has not forgotten ours; but that they 
are sweetly fallen asleep in Him, and will be the everlasting objects 
jf his care and love: 4 for of such is the kingdom of heaven.’ 


Rev. Dr. Doddridge. 


“We miss them when the board is spread, 
We miss them when the prayer is said; 
Upon our dreams their dying eyes 
In still and mournful fondness lies. 


Newman. 



The kingdom of heavenly glory is greatly constituted of such as 
die in infancy. Infants are as capable of regeneration as grown 
persons; and there is abundant ground to conclude that all those who 
have not lived to commit actual transgressions, though they share in 
the effects of the first Adam’s offense, will also share in the blessings 
of the second Adam’s gracious covenant, without their personal faith 
and obedience, but not without the regenerating influence of the 
Spirit. 

Rev. Dr. Scott, 

“ These birds of paradise but long to flee 
Back to their native mansion.” 

Prophecy of Dante. 



There are flowers for thee, sweet one, which never shall die, 
Unfed by a tear, and unfanned by a sigh; 

There’s a heritage promised thee fadeless above, 

Whose title is grace, and whose riches are love, 

And a crown of rejoicing to circle thy brow; 

Then who’ll be so portioned, my baby, as thou? 






110 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE CHILD IS WITH GOD. 


HENRY WARD BEECHER. 


HEN our children that are bo dear to us are plucked out of 
mm our arms, and carried away, we feel, for the time be- 
ing, that we have lost them, because our body does not tri- 
umph; but are they taken from inward man? Are 
•'i-VT' they taken from that which is to be saved—the spiritual 
! man? Are they taken from memory? Are they taken from 
love ? Are they taken from the scope and reach of the imagination, 
which in its sanctified form, is only another name for faith ? Do we 
not sometimes dwell with them more intimately than we did when 
they were with us on earth ? The care of them is no longer ours, 
that love-burden we bear no longer, since they are with the angels of 
God and with God; and we shed tears over what seems to be our loss; 
but do they not hover in the air over our heads ? And to-day could 


the room hold them all ? 

As you recollect, the background of the Sistine Madonna, at Dres¬ 
den (in some respects the most wonderful picture of maternal love 
which exists in the world), for a long time was merely dark; and an 
artist, in making some repairs, discovered a cherub’s face in the 
grime of that dark background; and being led to suspect that the 
picture had been overlaid by time and neglect, commenced cleansing 
it; and as ho went on, cherub after cherub appeared, until it was 
found that the Madonna was on a background made up wholly of 
little heavenly cherubs. 

Now, by nature motherhood stands against a dark background, but 
that background being cleaned by the touch of God, and by the 
cleansing hand of faith, we see that the whole heaven is full of little 
cherub faces, And to-day it is not this little child alone that we look 
at, which we see only in the outward guise; we look upon a back¬ 
ground of children innumerable, each one as sweet to its mother’s 
heart as this child has been to its mother’s heart, each one as dear to 
the clasping arms of its f ather as this child has been to the clasping 
arms of his father; and it is in good company. It is with God. You 
have given it back to Him who lent it to you. 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

DON’T PRAY TO KEEP ME MOTHER DEAR 


141 


WILLIAM C. RICHARDS 



SAW a little maiden come, 

A-sudden, to that river, 

At whose dark brink bold lips close dumb, 
And stout hearts quail and shiver— 
The marge of Death’s cold river. 


Down to the 6tream the little maid 
Was led by white-robed angels; 
Around her golden harps they played, 
And sung those sweet evangels 
Sung only by the angels. 


Five days upon the brink she lay 
Of that apalling river; 

And death shot arrows every day, 
From his insatiate quiver, 

At her bedside, the river. 


Oh! but I stood amazed to hear 
Her wan lips sweetly saying, 

M Don’t pray to keep me, mother dear, 

I must not here be staying;” 

Such words of wonder, saying: 

Mother, I do not fear to die. 

My 6ins are all forgiven; 

And shining angels hovering nigh, 

Will bear my soul to heaven, 
Through God’6 dear Lamb forgiven.” 

And then, from her fond mother’s breast, 
She plunged into that river; 

Her fluttering pulses sunk to rest, 

Her heart was etill for ever, 

Her soul beyond the river. 

Now when my children wait to hear, 
Some tender, touching story, 

I tell them how, without a fear, 

She died, and went to glory; 

And tears flow with the story. 


/ 




142 


THE HOME BEYOND 
TEARS FOR THE DEPARTED CHILDREN. 



RE we stoics that we can see our cradle rifled of the bright 
eyes and sweet lips ? Must we stand unmoved and see the 
gardens of our earthly delight uprooted? Will Jesus, who 
wept himself, be angry with us if we weep over the grave that 
swallows what we loved best? Oh, no. We must weep. You 
shall not drive back the tears that scald the heart Thank God 
for the strange and mysterious relief that comes in tears. Since I 
last stood here the waves have gone over us. Have you lost a child ? 
Then you understand the grief. Have you not lost one ? You ca nn ot 
understand it. I would not dare trust myself veiy far in this refer¬ 
ence or allusion. I only make reference to it that I may thank you 
for your deep, wide, magnificent sympathy. First of all, God helped 
us; next you. And when, last Sabbath afternoon, we were riding to 
Greenwood, I said, ‘ I cannot understand this composure which I feel, 
and this strange peace;’ and it was suggested then and there, ‘There’s 
a vast multitude of people praying for us!’ That solved it. I thank 
you. God bless you in your persons and your homes. I gave that 
one to God in holy baptism just after his birth, and God has only 
taken that which was IPs own. I stand here to-day to testify of the 
comforting grace of God. 

Talmage. 


SAY NOT ’TWERE A KEENER BLOW. 


Oh! ' Kfty not ’twere a keener blow, 

To isose a child of riper years; 

You cannot feel a mother’s woe, 

You cannot dry a mother’s tears; 

The girl who rears a sickly plant, 

Or cherishes a wounded dove, 

Will love them most while most they want 
The watchfulness of love! 

Time must have changed that fair young brow! 

Time might have changed that spotless heart! 
Years might have taught deceit, but now 
In love’s confiding dawn we part! 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


14; 


Ere pain or grief had wrought decay, 

My babe is cradled in the tomb; 

Like some fair blossom torn away 
Before its perfect bloom. 

With thoughts of peril and of storm, 

We see a bark first touch the wave; 

But distant seems the whirlwind’s form 
As distant—as an infant’s grave! 

Though all is calm, that beauteous ship 
Must bear the whirlwind’s rudest breath; 

Though all is calm, that infant’s lip 
Must meet the kiss of death! 


T. H. Bayly. 




LAMBS SAFELY FOLDED. 


Dry your tears, bereaved parents, or turn them into floods of 
joy. The voice that called them away, was His who said; They 
belong to my kingdom. The hand that took them from you was His, 
who once laid His benediction on the infant’s head. He has set them 
in the midst of his admiring disciples above. They are now the 
darling little ones of their Heavenly Father’s house. The angels 
who watched over their cradle beds, are now rejoicing over their 
immortal beauty, as lambs safely folded where the spoiler can never 
come. Heed them not, who would bid you doubt; point them to the 
recorded censure of the Master, displeased at so unmerciful an 
unbelief. “ Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” “ Out of the mouth 
of” your “babe,” Christ’s “praise” is “perfected” in the temple on 
high1 


Rev. Dr. Bethune. 



May he find a Savior’s breast 
That when life’s weary journey’s o’er, 
He may—to wake in sin no more— 


Sleep there, 
Free from care, 


As on his mother’s breast. 


John S. B. Monsell. 





y • 












OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
ONE LINK GONE 


AKE the pillows from the cradle 
Where the little sufferer lay; 
Draw the curtain, close the shutters, 
Shut out every beam of day. 

J Spread the pall upon the table, 

Place the lifeless body there; 

Back ffom off the marble features 
Lay the auburn curls with care. 

With its little blue-veined fingers 
Crossed upon its sinless breast, 

Free from care, and pain, and anguish, 

Let the infant cherub rest. 

Smooth its little shroud about it; 

Pick the toys from off the floor; 

They, with all their sparkling beauty 
Ne’er can charm their owner more. 

Take the little shoes and stockings 
From the doting mother’s sight; 

Pattering feet no more will need them, 
Walking in the fields of light. 

Parents, faint and worn with watching 

Through the long, dark night of grief, 

Dry your tears and soothe your sighing— 
Gain a respite of relief. 

Mother, care is no more needed 
To allay tne rising moan, 

And though you perchance may leave it, 
It can never be alone. 

Angels bright will watch beside it 
In its quiet, holy slumber 

Till the morning, then awake it 

To a place among their number 

Thus a golden, link is broken 

In the chain of earthly bliss, 

Thus the distance shorter making 

’Twixt the brighter world and this. 



145 


Unknown:. 





146 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE DEATH OF THE FIEST-BOKN CHILD. 


Blackwood’s magazine. 



HOU weepest, childless mother! 
^j> Ay, weep—’twill ease thine heart; 
S^Hc was thy first-born son, 

Thy first, thy only one— 

’Tis hard from him to part! 

“ ’Tis hard to iay thy darling 

Deep in the damp, cold earth— 
His empty crib to see, 

His silent nursery, 

Once vocal with his mirth. 


“ To meet again in slumber 
His small mouth’s rosy kiss; 

Then Avaking with a start, 

By thine own throbbing heart, 

His twining arms to miss! 

“ To feel, half conscious why, 

A duli, heart sinking weight; 

Till mem’ry on thy soul 
Flashes the painful whole, 

That thou art desolate! 

“ And there to lie and weep, 

And think the live-long night, 
Feeding thine own address, 

With accurate greediness, 

Of every past delight. 

“ Of all his winning ways, 

His pretty, playful smiles; 

His joy at sight of thee, 

His tricks, his mimicry, 

And all his little wiles. 

a Oh! these are recollections 

Round mothers hearts that cling, 
That mingle with the tears 
And smiles of after years, 

With oft awakening. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


147 


“ But thou wilt then, fond mother! 

In after years look back, 

(Time brings such wondrous easing), 
With sadness not unpleasing, 

Even on that gloomy track. 

“ Thoul’l say, ‘ My first-born blessing, 
It almost broke my heart 
When thou wert forced to go, 

And yet, for thee I know 
’Twas better to depart. 

“ God took thee in His mercy, 

A lamb, untasked, untried; 

He fought the fight for thee, 

He won the victory, 

And thou art sanctified 

“ ‘ I look around and see 
The evil ways of men, 

And oh! beloved child! 

I’m more than “ reconciled ” 

To thy departure then, 

“ ‘ The little hands that clasped me, 
The innocent lips that prest, 
Would they have been as pure 
Till now, as when of yore 

I lulled them on my breast? 

“ ‘ Now (like a dew-drop shrined 
Within a crystal stone), 

Thou’rt safe in Heaven my dove! 

Safe with the Source of Love— ■ 

The Everlasting One! 

“ * And when the hour arrives, 

From flesh that sets me free, 

Thy spirit may await, 

The first at Heaven’s gate, 

To meet and welcome me!’ ' r 






THE HOME BEYOND 


BABY’S SHOES 


Oh! those little, those little blue shoes! 

Those shoes that no little feet use; 

Oh! the price were high 
That those shoes would buy, 

Those little blue unused shoes! 

For they hold the small shape of feet 
That no more their mother’s eyes meet; 

That by God’s good will, 

Years since grew still, 

And ceased from their totter so sweet. 

And oh! since that baby slept, 

So hushed, how the mother has kept, 

With a tearful pleasure, 

That little dear treasure, 

And over them thought and wept! 

For they mind her for evermore 
Of a patter along the floor; 

And blue eyes she sees 
Look up from her knees, 

With the look that in life they wore. 

As they lie before her there, 

There babbles from chair to chair 
A little sweet face 
That’s a gleam in the place, 

With its little gold curls of hair. 

Then, oh! wonder not that her heart 
From all else would rather part 

Than those tiny blue shoes 
That no little feet use, 

And whose sight makes such fond tears start. 

Wm. C. Bennett 



Sleep, sleep then, my infant, sleep softly the while 

I’ll sing to thee, sweet one! and watch for thy smile. 

For that answering smile, love, which oft as I trace 
With its soft light of gladness plays over thy face, 

I’ll hail as a dream, sent thee down from the blest, 

And think that my babe’s gentle spirit hath rest. 

John S. B Monsetx. 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


149 


WHICH SHALL GO? 


HE mother sat with her children three, 

The Angel of Death drew near: 

I come for one of thy babes,” quoth he,— 

“ Of the little band, say, which shall it be? 

I will not choose, but leave it for thee 
To give me the one least dear.” 

The mother started, with movement wild, 

And drew them all close to her heart: 

The Angel reached forth and touched the child 
Whose placid features, whene er she smiled, 

Reflected the mother’s beauty mild; 

“ With this one,” said he, “ canst thou part?” 

“ With this one? O God! She is our first-born,— 

As well take my life away! 

I never lived till that blessed morn 
When she, as a bud, on my breast was worn; 

Without her the world would be all forlorn,— 

Spare this one, kind Death, I pray! ” 

The Angel drew backwards, then touched again; 

This time ’twas a noble boy: 

“ Will it cause thee, to part with him, less pain?” 

“ Hold, touch him not! ” she cried, “ refrain 
He’s an only 6on—if we had but twain— 

Oh, spare us our pride and our joy! ” 

Once more the angel stood waiting there; 

Then he gently laid his hand 
On the shining head, of a babe, so fair, 

That even Death pitied and touched with care; 

While the mother prayed, *• Merciful Heaven, forbearj 
’Tis the pet of our little band! ” 

“ Then which? ’ said the Angel; “ for God calls one.” 

The mother bowed down her head; 

Love’s troubled fount was in tears o’errun— 

A murmur —a struggle—and Grace had won, 

“ Not my will,” she said. “ but thine be done! ” 

The pet lamb of the fold lay dead. 

Mrs. Elizabeth C. 










150 


THE HOME BEYOND 


HEAVEN IS FULL OF CHILDEEN. 



THINK it, at least, highly probable, that where our Lord 
says, ‘Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid 
them not for of such is the kingdom of heaven,’ He does 
not only intimate the necessity of our becoming like little chib 
dren in simplicity, as a qualification, without which (as he 
expressly declares in other places) we cannot enter into his 
kingdom, but informs us of a fact, that the number of infants, who 
are effectually redeemed unto God by His blood, so greatly exceeds 
the aggregate of adult believers, that, comparatively speaking, His 
kingdom may be said to consist of little children. As if the full 
import of what He had said to his disciples was, think not that little 
children are beneath my notice; think not that I am a stranger to 
little children; suffer them to come to me, and forbid them not. I 
have often been in their society; I love their society; the world from 
which I came, and to which I go, is full of little children. 


“ Flowers that once had loved to linger 
In the world of human love, 

Touch’d by death’s decaying finger 
For better life above! 

O! ye stars! ye rays of glory! 

Gem-lights in the glittering dome! 
Could ye not relate a story 

Of the spirits gather’d home?” 


THE DEATH OF A CHILD. 


Yes, thou art fled, and saints a welcome sing; 

Thine infant spirit soars on angel wing; 

Our dark affection might have hoped thy stay,— 

The voice of God has called the child away. 

Like Samuel early in the temple found— 

Sweet rose of Sharon, plant of holy ground, 

On, more than Samuel blessed, to thee is given, 

The God he served on earth to serve in heaven. 

Cunningham. 




OK VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
MY CHILD. 


15 ! 


JOHN PIERPONT. 


O, I cannot make him dead! 

His fair sunshiny head 
Is ever bounding round my study chair. 
Yet, when my eyes, now dim 
With tears, I turn to him, 

The vision vanishes—he is not there. 

I walk my parlor floor, 

And through the open door, 

I hear a foot-fall on the chamber-stair; 

I’m stepping toward the hall, 

To give the boy a call, 

And then bethink me that—he is not there! 

I tread the crowded street; 

A satcheled lad I meet, 

With the same beaming eyes and colored hair; 
And as he’s running by, 

Follow him with my eye, 

Scarcely believing that—he is not there! 

I know his face is hid 
Under the coffin-lid: 

Closed are his eyes, cold is his forehead fair; 

My hand that marble felt; 

O’er it in prayer I knelt; 

Yet my heart whispers that—he is not there! 

I cannot make him dead! 

When passing by the bed 
So long watched over with parental care, 

My spirit and my eye 
Seek it inquiringly, 

Before the thought comes that—he is not there! 

When at the cool gray break 
Of day, from sleep I wake, 

With my first breathing of the morning air, 

My soul goes up with joy, 

To Him who gave my boy, 

Then comes the sad thought that—he is not there! 












152 


THE HOME BEYOND 


When at the day’s calm close, 

Before we seek repose, 

I’m with his mother offering up our prayer, 

Or evening anthems tuning, 

In spirit I’m communing 
With our boy’s spirit, though—he is not there! 

Not there!—Where, then, is he? 

The form I used to see 
Was but the raiment that he used to wear! 

The grave, that now doth press 
Upon that cast-off dress, 

Is but his wardrobe locked: he is not there! 

He lives!—in all the past 
He lives; nor, to the last, 

Of seeing him again will I despair. 

In dreams I see him now, 

And, on his angel-brow, 

I see it written: “ Thou shalt see me there! ” 

Yes, we all live to God! 

Father, thy chastening rod 
So help us, thine afflicted ones, to bear, 

That in the spirit-land, 

Meeting at thy right hand, 

’Twill be our heaven to find that—Thou art there! 

WOULD YOU CALL HIM BACK 



S if an angel had lost his way, and for a few days had 
• 4 wandered among the sons of men, till his companions sud- 
* denly discovered him in this wilderness, and caught him, 
and bore him off to his native residence among the blessed; eo 
the child is taken kindly in the morning of its wanderings, and 
gathered among the holy and brought home to his Father’s 
house. How pure his spirit now; how happy he is nowl 


“ Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there 
Around my Savior stand,” 

and among them I behold the infant forms of those whose little 
graves were wet with the tears of parental love. I hear their infant 
voices in the song. Do you see in the midst of that bright and 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


153 


blessed throng the child you mourn ? I ask not now if you would 
call him back again. I fear you would! But I ask you, “ What 
would tempt him back again f” Bring out the playthings that ho 
loved on earth, the toys that filled his childish heart with gladness 
and pleased him on the nursery floor; the paradise that was ever 
bright when he smiled within it; hold them up, and ask him to throw 
away his harp, and leave the side of his new found friends, and the 
bosom of his Savior; and would he come, to be a boy again, to five 
end laugh, and love again, to sicken, suffer, die, and perhaps be lost 
I think he would stay. I think I would shut the door if I saw him 
coming. 

Rev. S. I. Prime, D. D. 


BE RECONCILED IN THE DEATH OF A CHILD. 



HOPE you are both well reconciled to the death of your 
child. Indeed I cannot be sorry for the death of infants, 
How many storms do they escape ! Nor can I doubt, in 
my private judgment, that they are included in the election of 
grace. Perhaps those who die in infancy, are the exceeding 
great multitudes of all people, nations, and languages men¬ 
tioned in Revelation vii. 9, in distinction from the visible body of 


professing believers, who were marked on their foreheads, and openly 
known to be the Lord’s. Lev. John Newton. 


But thou, the mother of so sweet a child, 
Thy false imagined loss cease to lament, 
And wisely strive to curb thy sorrows wild; 
Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
And render him with patience what he lent. 


Milton. 





EDMUND SPENSER. 













































THE RAISING OF JAIRUS’ DAUGHTER, 














IMMORTALITY. 


RT. REV. SAMUEL FALLOWS, D. D. 


ITHOUT any attempt at an exhaustive presentation of the 
all-important subject of Immortality, I may be able to 
^ brief, an outline of the arguments by which the 
doctrine is supported, Although they will not be arguments 
amounting to demonstration, they will afford the highest 
probability to every thoughtful Christian mind, that if a man 


die, he shall live again. 

I shall avoid, as far as possible, a dry, metaphysical treatment 
of the question, and avail myself more of the logic of the heart, than 
of the understanding. 

We are met on the threshold of our theme with the fact, that 
among all the nations of the earth the idea of Immortality has been 
held. This is a signal proof that the idea is true. It does not 
affect the validity of the position taken, that the ideas of these 
various nations were incorrect as regards the nature of the future 
state. The clearing up of all doubts, the dispelling of all mists > 
depends upon revelation. The function of God’s revealed truth is 
not to discover new and fundamental ideas to the universal intelli¬ 
gence of man. It is to clarify them of all error in their application, 


157 











158 


THE HOME BEYOND 


to bring them out into fullness and prominence; to make them 
nutritive and determinative in the moral and spiritual life. 

While holding to the transmigration of the soul, the ancient 
Hindoos believed in its essential immortality. It was taught by 
them, “ as a man throweth away his old garment and putteth on new, 
so the soul, having quitted its old mortal frames, entereth into others 
which are new. The weapon divideth it not. The water corrupteth 
it not. The wind drieth it not away. It is indivisible, inconsuma¬ 
ble, incorruptible.” 

Herodotus says of the Egyptians: “They were the first of 
mankind who had defended the immortality of the soul.” 

Lord Bolingbroke, free-thinker though he was, declares that 
‘the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, and a future state of 
rewards and punishments, began to be taught before we have any 
light into antiquity. And when we begin to have any, we find it 
established that it was strongly inculcated from time immemorial.” 
Yolney admits that all the earliest nations taught that the soul 
survived the body, and was immortal. 

It has been the belief of earlier and later peoples. The nations 
of Northern Europe, the fierce, restless hordes who forced the gates 
of the Eternal City and crushed the Roman power, believed that the 
slothful and cowardly, at death, went into dark caves underground, 
full of noisesome creatures, and there they groveled in endless stench 
and misery. But those who died in battle, went immediately to the 
vast palace of Odin, their god of war, where they were entertained in 
perpetual feasts and mirth. 

Among civilized and uncivilized nations, on continents and 
islands, in every quarter of the globe, the belief in immortality has 
been entertained. Whence came the idea ? Some of the deniers of 
the soul’s inherent immortality have attempted to answer the ques¬ 
tion. Philosophers and statesmen, they allege, “ practicing a pious 
fraud” upon the people, foisted it upon them. It was found 
necessary to bring in the idea of a future life, to hold the masses in 
subjection; to secure their allegiance to the State, and uphold the 
dignity of philosophy. Plato is represented as quoting a Pythago. 
rean philosopher, who taught that, “ as we sometimes cure the body 
with unwholesome remedies, when such as are most wholesome have 
no effect, so we restrain those minds by false relations which will not 
be persuaded by the truth.” In like manner, it is claimed, th$ 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 159 

philosophers and statesmen reasoned, and so invented the idea of 
immortality to compass their ends. • 

We have only one question to ask. What philosopher, or what 
statesman invented it? When his name is ascertained, we may 
entertain such an unfounded assertion. He will be found closely 
akin to the one who invented the love of the beautiful, the sentiment 
of harmony, the love of children, the fact of conscience, and the idea 
of God. If the historical argument for immortal existence were 
pressed no further than the admitted position that it is congenial to 
the universal mind of man, a strong presumption would be created in 
favor of the doctrine. But it goes much further, and proves that the 
idea of continued being is native to the human soul. The consent of 
all nations, is the grandest affirmation possible of what the conscious¬ 
ness of man teaches. 

The philosopher, the statesman, and the priest may have played 
upon the credulity of the people, and held them fast in dire super¬ 
stitious bondage; but it was through a perversion of the instincts 
and principles God had implanted in the constitution of man 
himself. 

II. I may adduce the metaphysical and moral argument 

In the Kensington Museum, in England, I saw some of the 
sketches from the master hand of Turner. Rough and rude they 
were, but yet such only as his hand could draw. Over against them 
were the finished pictures, with all their faithfulness of detail, 
accuracy of expression, and magnificence of execution. 

The best human life here, with its marvelousness of inventive 
powers, its royal reach of reason, its sublime daring of genius, its 
amplitude of affection, its deeds of goodness, is but an imperfect 
sketch; and yet a sketch that the hand of God only could draw. It 
is but the alphabet out of which the stately, glowing, and immortal 
epic of a Paradise regained shall spring from a Paradise Lost. It is 
but the wail of a new-born child compared with the symphonies of 
angels. 

No clearer truth does the open book of Nature unfold to the 
wise and reverent reader, than the existence of a plan in the devel¬ 
opment of the animal kingdom. 

No St. Peter’s or St. Paul’s can more clearly indicate the idea of 
Michael Angelo or Sir Christopher Wren, than the four great types 
on which organic life is built, the idea of the Great Architect of the 


universe. 


160 


THE HOME BEYOND 


This plan, in its four-fold manifestations, implies predetermin 
ation, and involves consummation. Every organ, howevei 
rudimentary at any particular stage of the unfolding, becomes 
a function somewhere on the line of development. It is sure to 
be employed down in the scale of existence. Some animals have 
fingers, which are never used. They are given them by the 
Being who unvaryingly adheres to His plan. They are there, 
because when man, the lord and head of the kingdom, comes to the 
throne, bringing forward and completing all the lower and preceding 
types, he must and does possess five fingers on each hand, of varying 
length and strength. Those rough and rigid protuberances, in the 
structure of his inferior relations, prophesied the free, facile and 
flexible use of the most perfect instruments for carrying out the 
thought of the brain and the love of the heart. If there be no 
immortal life, all the prophecies of Nature fail—suddenly and unac¬ 
countably fail. 

In the splendid make and mechanism of the body, compared 
with which the most cunning piece of man’s workmanship is a 
bungling performance, every promise has been redeemed, and every 
prophecy fulfilled. It is correlated to the world about it. Light 
has been made for the eye, sound for the ear, food for the palate. 
Nay, in the very constitution of the mind, axioms have been given to 
the reason, truth to the intellect, and beauty to the aesthetic taste. 
Still further the conscience has asked for light and cleansing, and 
they have been given; the soul has cried out for God, for the living 
God, and “ the invisible appeared in sight, and God was seen by 
mortal eye.” 

We have the instinctive fear of death—the unutterable dread of 
annihilation—the passionate longing for continued existence. We 
have powers capable of endless progression; faculties which fin d no 
appropriate sphere on earth, which are caged and confined, as the 
panting bird, aspiring after liberty, beats its breast against the 
restraining bars. 

We feel, we know our kinship with the skies. This world now 
can not bound our intellect; burning worlds and burnt-out worlds, 
swinging in their brilliant and gloomy orbits, throw up no barriers 
against the swift feet of our soaring imaginations. Beyond the 
uttermost limits of creation, we send our thoughts, our adoring love; 
beyond prostrate cherubim and seraphim, above the very throne 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 161 

itself, to Him that sitteth upon the throne, God over all, blessed 
for evermore. 

This light of intellect to be quenched in oblivion’s waters! These 
powers to be stamped out by annihilation! These longings to be 
unsatisfied, these hopes to be mocked! O, what a superb farce is 
this! 

The God of Nature is the father of the immortal soul. The 
brute attains its ends. Man would be a little lower than the brute, il 
he did not attain his. There is no annihilation of a single substance 
in Nature, though the form may be endlessly changed. There is no 
annihilation of spirit. The body may wax and wane. “ I call it 
mine, not me.” Connected with it, I yet know, that from it, “I am 
distinct, as is the swimmer from the flood.’, My thought, emotion, 
and will are not acids and phosphates. Our essential instincts are 
not a supreme forgery. Our faith in the God of Nature, and man, is 
not in vain. 

“ ’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us, 

’Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter 
And intimates eternity to man.” 

In the same line of thought is the revelation of God to man, 
through Jesus Christ our Lord, who taught us to say, in the most 
perfect form of words, at the beginning of his universal prayer, 
“Our Father who art in heaven.” In that sublime and comforting 
teaching, Father, and heaven, and man are brought together in vital 
relationship. 

Edward Everett, in his just and glowing eulogy of Daniel 
Webster, mentions the following incident: “ I happened one bright 
starry night to be walking with Daniel Webster, at a late hour, from 
the Capitol at Washington, after a skirmishing debate, in which he 
had been speaking at no great length, but with much earnestness and 
warmth, on the subject of the Constitution as forming a united 
government. The planet Jupiter, shining with unusual brilliancy, 
was in full view. He paused, as we descended Capitol Hill, and ? 
unconsciously pursuing the train of thought which he had been 
enforcing in the Senate, pointed to the planet, and said: ‘Night 
untonight showeth knowledge;’ take away the independent force, 
emanating from the hand of the Supreme, which impels that planet 
onward, and it would plunge in hideous ruin from those skies into 
the sun; take away the central attraction of the sun, and the attend- 


162 


THE HOME BEYOND 


ant planet would shoot madly from its sphere; urged and restrained 
by the balanced forces, it wheels its eternal circles through the 
heavens.” The underlying thought in that majestic mind, was this: 
These several States must be bound by supreme law to the one 
central government; “broad based upon the people’s will;” not 
clashing in endless confusion, but moving on in harmony, progress¬ 
iveness and light. 

But a still grander thought does the illustration illumine and 
glorify. 

We lift up our eyes and our hearts to that Supreme One whose 
hand “guideth Arcturus with his sons, bindeth the sweet influences 
of the Pleiades, and looseth the bands of Orion,” and it is the hand 
of “Our Father in Heaven.” 

There is the point of man’s original departure. 

“ Not in entire forgetfulness, 

Not in utter nakedness, 

But trailing clouds of glory, do we come 
From God who is our home.” 

You never ^an think of the Christian’s God without thinking of 
the Christian’s home. You never can take that endearing name of 
“ Father ” upon your lips, and leave out the Father’s house in which 
are many mansions. The two are forever united. Try to cut loose 
from God, you swing away from the heaven in which he dwells. Try 
to shut out from your vision that heaven, and you send the “ sun of 
the soul ” under an eclipse. If there is a real God, there is a real 
heaven. 

You can not sail upon the ocean, out of sight of land, without 
calling upon the heaven and its orbs of light to aid you. You must 
rectify your compass and your course by its central sun. You can 
not sail life’s sea without life’s heaven. Your compass of philosophy, 
history, of political economy, of statesmanship, of civilization must 
have the rectification of the skies, or you never can reach the heaven 
of humanity’s hopes. 

Break away from the Heaven-Father, and you are plunged in 
the blackness of darkness,- and the horrors of chaotic ruin. You 
have read that poem on Darkness, by one of the most gifted but 
sadly erring writers this earth has ever held. It was 
“ A dream which was not all a dream. 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


163 


The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars 
Did wander darkling in the eternal space 
Rayless and pathless, and the icy earth 
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air.” 

You know the rest. The prayer for light; the watch-fires of 
thrones, and palaces, and huts; the burning cities, the blazing homes, 
the crackling trunks of forest fires; the crouching of the freezing 
multitudes before their ineffectual flames; the looking up with mad, 
disquiet awe on the dull sky, the pall of a past world; the cursing, 
the gnashing of teeth, the howling of despair in the dust; the 
shrieking of the wild birds and the flapping of their useless wings; 
the wildest brutes becoming tame and tremulous; the crawling vipers, 
hissing, but stingless; the glut of war, the gorging with blood; the 
death of love; the pang of famine the dropping dead; the last two 
who survived—enemies, “ scraping with their cold, skeleton hands 
the feeble ashes;” the gaze of each upon the other; their shriek, 
and death from mutual hideousness! 

“The world was void, the waves were dead, 

The tides were in their grave; 

The winds were withered in the stagnant air, 

And the clouds perished; darkness had no need of aid 
From them, she was the universe! ” 

Extinguish those greater and lesser lights of God and immortal¬ 
ity from our sky, and you make the poet’s dream a fearful reality on 
our earth. 

In that awful winter, which shall bring icy death to man’s 
religious nature, and to his instincts, and aspirations for the life 
to come, all else that we hold dear below, government, home, social 
order, civilization, faith, hope, love, shall perish with eternal frost. 
And the horrors of the vision of atheism, seen by the philosophic 
Jean Paul, shall be added to those of the poet Byron: “Raising 
his eyes toward the heavenly vault, he beheld a deep, black, bot¬ 
tomless void! Eternity resting on chaos, was slowly devouring 
itself!” 

The end of the life of that greatest of American statesmen, 
foremost of American lawyers, and most commanding of American 
orators, whose language I have quoted from Mr. Everett, came in 
the course of time. Too feeble to hold his pen, he said in a 
whisper to Mr. Curtis, his biographer, “ I had intended to prepare 
a work for the press, to bear my testimony to Christianity; but 


164 THE HOME BEYOND 

it is now too late. Still, I would like to bear witness to the 
Gospel, before I die Writing materials were brought, and he 
dictated: “ Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief. Philosophical 
objections have often shaken my reason with regard to Christianity, 
especially the objections drawn from the magnitude of the universe 
contrasted 'with the littleness of this planet; but my heart has always 
assured me, and reassured me, that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is a 
divine reality; ” and these words are carved on the marble that rests 
over his sacred dust at Marshfield. But, as that brilliant orb was 
going down behind the western hills, he asked, as if still intently 
anxious to preserve his consciousness to the last, and to watch for the 
moment and act of his departure, so as to comprehend it, “ whether 
he were alive, or not.” On being assured he was, he said, as if 
assenting to what had been told him, because he, himself, perceived 
it was true, “ I still live !”—his last words. The sunset had come; 
but it was a sunrise to know no more setting. His earnest soul 
repeated, I think, the last words he spoke on earth as his first in 
heaven— I still live. 


HOPE BEYOND THE GKAVE. 



IS night, and the landscape is lovely no more; 

I mourn; but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you, 
^flpF^For morn is approaching your charms to restore, 

Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew- 
Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn; 

Kind nature the embryo blossom will save. 

But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn? 

Oh! when shall it dawn on the night of the grave? 


’Twas thus, by the glare of false science betrayed, 

That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind, 

My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade, 
Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. 

“ Oh, pity, great Father of Light! ” then I cried, 

“Thy creature, who fain would not wander from Thee! 
Lo! humbled in dust, T relinquish my pride: 

From doubt and from darkness Thou only canst free." 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


105 


And darkness and doubt are now flying away; 

No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn: 

So breaks on the traveller, faint and astray, 

The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. 

See Truth, Love, and Mercy, in triumph descending. 

And Nature all glowing in Eden’s first bloom. 

On the cold cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending, 

And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb. 

James Beattie, LL. D. 
-- 

THE DYNASTY OF THE FUTURE. 



HE dynasty of the future is to have glorified man for its 
inhabitant; but it is to be the dynasty—“ the kingdom”— 
no. of glorified man in the image of God, but of God, him¬ 
self in the form of man. In the doctrine of the two con¬ 
joined natures, human and Divine, and in the further 
doctrine that the terminal dynasty is to be peculiarly the 
dynasty of Him in whcm the natures are united, we find that 
required progression beyond which progress cannot go. We find the 
point of elevation never to be exceeded, meetly coincident with the 
final period never to be terminated—the infinite in height harmon¬ 
iously associated with the eternal in duration. Creation and the 
Creator meet at one point, and in one person. The long ascending 
line from dead matter to man has been a progress Godwards. 

Hugh Miller. 


THE UPWARD TENDENCIES OF THE SOUI 


From the birth 

Of mortal man, the sovereign Maker said, 

That not in humble nor in brief delight, 

Not in the fading echoes of Renown, 

Power’s purple robes, nor Pleasure’s flowery lay 
The soul should find enjoyment; but from these 
Turning disdainful to an equal good, 

Through all the ascent of things enlarge her view. 
Till every bound at length should disappear, 

And infinite perfection close the scene. 


Akenside. 







166 


THE HOME BEYOND 

THE HOPE OF IMMORTALITY. 


PROF. DAVID SWING. 


XJCH worshipers of the new are all made by the creative 
i§gP genius of our era, that in order to appreciate the old you 




must ask your imagination to picture them as coming up 
/!\\ before y°u for the first time. With what tears of joy would you 
hail the hope of immortality had that hope just come into the 
J world! If dust had been the assumed end of man, what 
discovery of science or art would compare in sublimity with the 
sudden assurance of a second and blessed life ? Such an expectation 
dwarfs all the common hopes of this world. A Prince yearly 
approaching a throne, a gifted mind gathering up the honors of 
learning or power, a citizen drawing near a fabulous fortune, are all 
small scenes or outlooks compared with that of a humble child 
steadily moving toward an endless and painless being. When you 
remember how you all love life and feel sad over the fact that the 
grave is before you, you may well be amazed at the height and depth 
of the doctrine of a second existence that shall be in all ways higher 
and sweeter than this. The slowness with which this notion came to 
man has hidden its vastness. Its age is a witness for its truth, but 
is against its grandeur as a thought. It is modified by its antiquity 
as mountains are made treeless and cold by intervening miles. Their 
verdure, and cascades, and song of birds are all toned away from the 
senses by their distance. They are spoken of as “gray,” or “hazy,” 
or “ blue.” One simple attribute thus remains out of a marvelous 
richness and variety. From many old doctrines has the' multitude 
moved away until ideas are seen in some one dead color—ideas vast 
as God and beautiful as Paradise. 

When love once fears that it may cease, it has already ceased. 
It is all the same to our hearts, whether the beloved one fades away 
or only his love. 




Jean Paul. 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
INSURANCE AND THE FUTURE LIFE. 


167 


REV. T. DE WITT TALMAGE, D. D. 


Ij HE scientific Hitchcocks and Sillimans and Mitchells of the 
world have united with the sacred writers in making us 
believe that there is coming a conflagration to sweep across 
this earth, compared with which, that of Chicago in 1871, and 
that of Boston in 1872, and that of New York in 1835 were a 
mere nothing. Brooklyn on fire! New York on fire! Charleston on 
fire! San Francisco on fire! Canton on fire! St. Petersburg on fire! 
Paris on fire! London on fire! The Andes on fire! The Appenines 
on fire! The Himalayas on fire! What will be peculiar about the 
day will be that the water with which we put out great fires will itself 
take flame, and the Mississippi, and the Ohio, and the St. Lawrence, 
and Lake Erie, and the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, and tumbling 
Niagara shall with red tongues lick the heavens. The geological 
heats of the centre of the world will burn out toward the circumfer¬ 
ence, and the heats of the outside will burn down from the circum 
ference to the centre, and this world will become a living coal—the 
living coal afterward whitening into ashes, the ashes scattered by the 
breath of the last hurricane, and all that will be left of this glorious 
planet will be the flakes of ashes fallen on other worlds. O! on that 
day will you be fire-proof, or will you be a total loss? Will you be 
rescued or will you be consumed ? When this great cathedral of the 
world, with its pillars of rock, and its pinnacles of mountain, and its 
cellars of golden mine, and its upholstery of morning cloud, and its 
baptismal font of the sea, shall blaze, will you get out on the fire- 
escape of the Lord’s deliverance? O! on that day for which all other 
days were made, may it be found that these Life Insurance men had 
a paid-up policy, and these Fire Insurance men had given them 
instead of the debris of a consumed worldly estate, a house not made 
wiR hands, eternal in the heavens! 












168 


THE HOME BEYOND 

THE DESIRE FOR CONTINUED EXISTENCE. 


EEV. CANON H. P. LIDDON, D. D. 



AN’S spirit lives more in the past, more in the future, 

L than in the present, exactly in the degree in which man 
'r- makes the most of himself. Man, as a spirit, reaches 
back into the past, reviews it, lives it over again in memory^ 
turns it to account in the way of experience. Man, as a spirit, 
reaches forward into future time—gazes wistfully at its uncer¬ 
tainties, maps it out—so far as he can, provides for it—at least, 
conditionally, disposes of it. Man, as a spirit, rises out of—rises 
above—the successive sensations which make up to an animal its 
whole present life. Man understands what it is to exist. He 
understands his relation to other beings, and to nature. He sees 
something—something at any rate—of the unique grandeur of his 
being among the existences around him. And thus he desires to 
exist beyond the present into the future which he anticipates—to 
exist into a very distant future if he may. The more his spirit 
makes of itself—the more it makes of its powers and its resources— 
the more earnestly does it desire prolonged existence. And thus the 
best heathens had the clearest presentiment of a life beyond the 
grave. These men of high thoughts and noble resolves could not 
understand that because material bodies were perishing around 
them, therefore conscience, reason, will, the common endowments of 
human kind, must or could be extinguished too. These men longed 
to exist—aye, after death, that they might continue to make progress 
in all such good as they had begun in this life, in their high thoughts, 
and their excellent resolves; and with these longings they believed 
that they would thus exist, after all, when this life was over. The 
longing, itself, you see, was a sort of proof that this object was reaL 
How else was the existence of the longing to be satisfactorily 
explained? If all enterprise in thought and in virtue was to be 
abruptly broken off by the shock of death, at any rate in this 
longing, and in the power of self-measurement out of which it grew, 
the spirit of man discovered its radical unlikeness to the lower forms 
of life around it. It became familiar with the idea of a prolonged 
existence, under other conditions, beyond the grave. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

THE GREAT HEREAFTER. 


1G9 



|OW sweet to think while struggling 
|| The goal of life to win, 

That just beyond the shining shore 
The better years begin. 


When through the nameless ages 
I cast my longing eyes. 

Before me, like a boundless sea 
The Great Hereafter lies. 


Along the brimming bosom 
Perpetual summer smiles 
And gathers, like a golden robe 
Around the emerald isles. 

And in the blue, long distance, 

• By lulling breezes fanned, 

I seem to see the flowering groves 
Of fair old Beulah’s land. 

And far beyond the islands, 

That gem the waves serene, 

The image of the golden shore 
Of holy Heaven is seen. 

And to the Great Hereftear 
Afore-time, dim, and dark, 

I freely now, and gladly give, 

Of life, the wandering bark. 

Then in the far-off haven, 

When shadowy seas are passed, 
By angel hands, her quivering sails 
Shall all be furled at last. 





Clark. 









170 


THE HOME BEYOND 


LITTLE CONCEEN FOE THE FUTUEE. 



HOUGHTS of the future should give us very little concern. 
I think this way: If Christ loved me six thousand years 
ago so as to offer to die for me, and during all that six 
thousand years to keep me in mind, and four thousand years 
after that did come and die for my sins, and since then to 
watch over and keep me, that Jesus that loved me and gave 
Himself for me, and who now comes to take possession of that heart, 
will not give me up when I get old and sick and die. Is that the 
way a mother does ? The sicklier and feebler the child is the more 
she clings to it. The Lord Jesus loves with more than a mother’s 
love. 

Bishop M. SiMPson. 

—- 


THE IMMOETAL LIFE. 


The insect bursting from its tomb-like bed— 

The grain that in a thousand grains revives— 

The trees that seem in wintry torpor dead— 

Yet each new year renewing their green lives; 

All teach, without the added aid of Faith, 

That life still triumphs o’er apparent death! 

But dies the insect when the summer dies; 

The grain hath perished, though the plant remain; 
In death, at last, the oak of ages lies; 

Here Reason halts, nor further can attain, 

For Reason argues but from what she sees, 

Nor traces to their goal these mysteries. 

But Faith the dark hiatus can supply— 

Teaching, eternal progress still shall reign: 
Telling (as these things aid her to espy) 

In higher worlds that higher laws obtain; 
Pointing, with radiant finger raised on high, 

From life that still revives, to life that cannot die. 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


171 


THE IDEA OF MAN’S IMMORTALITY DIVINELY 
IMPRESSED. 



LL nations, are, in a manner, agreed that there is an immor¬ 
tality to be expected, as well as a Deity to be worshiped; 
T(^ ’though ignorance of circumstances makes religion vary even 
to monstrosity, in many parts of the world. But both Religion 
and the belief of the Reward of it, which is a blessed state after 
death, being so generally acknowledged by all the inhabitants of 
the earth; it is a plain argument that it is true, according to the Light 
of Nature. And not only because they believe so, but because they 
do so seriously desire it, or are so horribly afraid of it if they offend 
much against their consciences: which properties would not be in man 
so universally, if there were no objects in Nature answering to these 
Faculties. I therefore demand, and I desire to be answered without 
prejudice or any restraint laid upon our Natural Faculties. To what 
purpose is this indelible Image or Idea of God, in us, if there be no 
such thing as God existent in the world ? Or who sealed so deep an 
impression of that character upon our minds ? 

Henry Moore. 




IMMORTALITY AND DEATH. 

Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of Death, 

To break the shock blind Nature cannot shun, 

And lands Thought smoothly on the farther shore. 
Death’s terror is the mountain Faith removes, 

That mountain-barrier between men and peace. 

’Tis Faith disarms Destruction, and absolves 
From every clam’rous charge the guiltless tomb. 

* * * * * 

The chamber where the good man meets his fate 
Is privileged beyond the common walk 
Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven. 

Fly, ye profane! if not, draw near with awe, 
Receive the blessing, and adore the chance 
That threw in this Bethesda your disease; 




172 


THE HOME BEYOND 


If unrestored by this, despair your cure; 

For here resistless demonstration dwells. 

A death-bed’s a detector of the heart; 

Here tired Dissimulation drops her mask, 

Through life’s grimace that mistress of the scene; 

Here real and apparent are the same. 

***** 

What gleams of joy! what more than human peace! 

Where the frail mortal? the poor abject worm? 

No, not in death the mortal to be found. 

His conduct is a legacy for all, 

Richer than Mammon’s for his single heir. 

His comforters he comforts; great in ruin, 

With unreluctant grandeur gives, not yields, 

His soul sublime, and closes with his fate. 

How our hearts burnt within us at the scene. 

Whence this brave bound o’er limits fix’d to man? 

His God sustains him in his final hour! 

Edward Young. 


THE STRAIN OF IMMORTALITY. 






&TRANGE,” said a gifted metaphysician once, “that the 
_Jr barrel-organ, man, should terminate every tune with the 
strain of immortality! ” Not strange, but divinely natural. 
It is the tentative prelude to the thrilling music of our eternal 
bliss written in the score of destiny. When at night we gaze 
far out into immensity, along the shining vistas of God’s abode 
and are almost crushed by the overwhelming prospects that sweep 
upon our vision, do not some premonitions of own unfathomed 
greatness also stir within us? Yes: “the sense of Existence, the 
ideas of Right and Duty, awful intuitions of God and immortality,—• 
these, the grand facts and substance of the spirit, are independent 
and indestructible.” 


W. R. Alger. 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
MORAL LIFE BEYOND EARTH. 


f73 


SOMETIMES like to fancy things about the stars. May 
there not be moral systems as well as physical?—moral 
wholes or plans; a portion of the plan being carried on in 
one world, and another in another world,so that, like differ- 
ent pieces of a machine,or like the different stars themselves, 
the whole must be examined before the plan can be under 
stood. The world may be a moral center; the center being the cross 
from which moral radii extend throughout the moral universe. Phys¬ 
ical space and moral space have no connection. It used to be an old 
question how many angels could dance on the point of a needle, but 
it had a glimmer of wisdom, too, for it arose from the feeling that 
spiritual things have no relation to space. 

Rev. Norman MacLeod, D. D. 



THIS LIFE AN ARGUMENT FOR THE NEXT. 


i? HERE are times when the best life seems a sheer failure to 
Sj the man who has lived it; his wisdom folly, his genius 
impotence, his best deed poor and small; when he wonders 
why he was suffered to be born; when all the sorrows of the 
2 J world seem poured upon him; when he stands in a populous 
loneliness, and, though weak, can only lean upon himself. In 
such hours he feels the insufficiency of this life. It is only his 
cradle-time—he counts himself just born; all honors, wealth and 
fame are but baubles in his baby-hand: his deep philosophy but 
nursery rhymes; yet he feels the immortal fire burning in his heart 
Still worse, the consciousness of sin comes over him; he feels that he 
has insulted himself. All about him seems little: himself little, yet 
clamoring to be great Then we feel an immortality; through the 
garish light of day we see a star or two. The soul within us feels 
her wings, contending to be borne, impatient for the sky, and wrestles 
with the earthly worm, that folds us in. 



Theodore Parker. 










* 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 




# 


v 


\ 




I 



■f 


















OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
A SECOND LIFE. 


175 


HE most of fame goes under the grass with the other 
wreaths placed upon the coffin. To compose that vast and 
immortal thing called truth, millions of minds are consumed. 
There must be elsewhere a compensation for the individual 
thus rudely torn from life. A second life, a readjustment 
beyond the tomb, is the only explanation of that destroying 
angel which moves to and fro in our streets and homes. Society is 
immortal here, man is immortal hereafter. Earth consumes our 
great ones and our loved ones, but heaven looks down in pity and 
receives them to herself. Earth refines man as silver is refined— 
refines, but does not destroy. After the dross of the body and soul 
have been consumed the spirit thus whitened begins elsewhere a 
higher life. 

Prof. David Swing. 




IMMORTAL FLOWERS. 



s ET us walk with the Gardener while He points out to us 
some of His rarer plants. He points to this bed and says, 
$ “ There rests a precious seed, O how lovely will its blooming 
be! On earth it was called Bleeding Heart. It grew in great 
tribulation. But the terminology of the botany of heaven is 
not known on earth. It has a new name, written on a white 
stone, which no man knoweth. Tears and afflictions were needed to 
bring out its rare qualities.” 

And what lies here in this bed, Gardener ? “ You would call that 
in earth’s botany, a Heliotrope—the flower that ever turns toward 


the sun.” 

“ And there lies the Lily of the Valley; and there the Calla, 
whose roots had to be submerged in water.” 

“But,” we ask, “Gardener, canst Thou care for all these? Will 
there be no confusion or neglect ? Thy flower beds are so many, is 
there no possibility that some will be overlooked?” 







176 


THE HOME BEYOND 


“Oh, no,” He answers; “their names are all graven on the 
palms of My hands, and are written also in the Book of Life.” 

O blessed truth! What flowers shall spring up from these 
grassy mounds! Rbt . p E Kirr. 


I seek relief and I find it in the consolatory opinion, that this 
dreary and wretched life is not the whole of man; that a being, 
capable of such proficiency in science and virtue, is not like the 
beasts that perish; that there is a dwelling-place prepared for the 
spirits of the just; that the ways of God will yet be vindicated to 
man. 

Sir James Mackintosh. 


AKGUMENT FOR IMMORTALITY FROM THE HEART- 

LIFE. 


H. W. THOMAS, D. D. 


WANT to advance an argument that I do not remember to 
have ever seen in any book or to have ever heard The 
argument is this: that the same reasons which led to the 
creation of human beings will demand their continuance. 
We are not able to say certainly what were the reasons in 
the Divine mind that led to the creation of man. That 
creation might have been the outgrowth of the universal love, the 
outgrowth of a desire to create beings with whom he might hold 
communion and raise to the realms of his feelings, and ultimately 
elevate to companionship with himself. Whatever those reasons 
might have been, we cannot but conceive that what led to the crea¬ 
tion of man would in some way seek to perpetuate man’s being. It 
will not do to say that God is a mere model-builder, that He will go 
on age after age simply experimenting. When he endows humanity 
with the crown of mind and spirit, when it comes to that point where 
that which is distinctive in man is given, and love for his fellow 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN .» 


177 


man, belief in his own immortal destiny, and faith in God—in all 
reason we are bound to the conclusion that the cause which led to 
our creation will continue to influence the Divine Being to our pres¬ 
ervation. 

We may offer another argument, not new, drawn from the 
pleadings of morality, the pleadings of the heart-life. This world is 
certainly a moral battle-field, where through all the centuries truth 
has been pitted against error, reason against passion, justice against 
injustice. The whole history of mankind shows that the battle has 
been a tedious one. The lines have wavered, and at no time has the 
final result been certain except to the eye of faith. Now I would 
take my stand by the side of every patriot who ever loved his country, 
by the side of every martyr who ever died for truth, by the side of 
every teacher who ever taught, by the side of every minister who ever 
preached, by the side of every missionary who ever went forth to 
heathen lands, by the side of those who have wiped away the tear of 
sorrow, who have tried to lift up the fallen, who have sat by the 
bedside of the dying and tried to push back the shadows of night—in 
the name of every one who has ever worked, or thought, or suffered 
for humanity, do I claim that there must be some future where the 
results of this great struggle are to be crowned with a compensation 
beyond what is reached here; a future where the uneven scales of 
justice in this life may find their balance, where man shall be dealt 
with according to his merits. Taking our stand by the heart-life, I 
ask, in the name of reason, is all the longing in human souls to be 
left out ? Is all the affection of this world, that has clung about 
life as the vine about the ark, to go for naught? 



So flits the world’s uncertain span! 

Nor zeal for God, nor love for man, 

Gives mortal monuments a date 
Beyond the power of Time and Fate. 

The tower’s must 6hare the builder’s doom; 
Ruin is theirs, and his a tomb; 

But better boon benignant Heaven 
To Faith and Charity has given, 

And bids the Christian hope sublime 
Transcend the bounds of Fate and Time. 


Sir Walter Scott. 


178 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE AKGUMENTS OF PLATO. 


PROF. B. F. CROCKER, D. D. 


HE soul is imm ortal, because it is incorporeal. There are 
two kinds of existences, one compounded, the other simple; 
one perceptible to sense, the other comprehended by mind 
alone. The one is visible, the other is invisible. When the 
soul employs the bodily senses, it wanders and is confused; 
but when it abstracts itself from the body, it attains to 
knowledge which is stable, unchangeable, and immortal. The soul, 
therefore, being uncompounded, incorporeal, invisible, must be indis¬ 
soluble—that is to say, immortal. 

2. The soul is immortal, because it has an independent power of 
self-motion—that is, it has self-activity and self-determination. No 
arrangement of matter, no configuration of body, can be conceived as 
the originator of free and voluntary movement. Now that which 
cannot move itself, but derives its motion from something else, may 
cease to move and perish. “ But that which is self moved, never 
ceases to be active, and is also the cause of motion to all other things 
that are moved.” And “ whatever is continually active is immortal.” 
This “ self-activity,” says Plato, “ is the very essence and true notion 
of the soul.” Being thus essentially causative, it therefore partakes of 
the nature of a “ principle,” and it is the nature of a principle to 
exclude a contrary. That which is essentially self-active can never 
cease to be active; that which is the cause of motion and of change, 
cannot be extinguished by the change called death. 

3. The soul is immortal, because it possesses universal, neces¬ 
sary, and absolute ideas, which transcend all material conditions, and 
bespeak an origin immeasurably above the body. No modifications 
of matter, however refined, however elaborated, can give the Absolute, 
the Necessary, the Eternal. But the soul has the ideas of absolute 
beauty, goodness, perfection, identity, and duration, and it possesses 
these ideas in virtue of its having a nature which is one, simple, iden¬ 
tical, and in some sense eternal. If the soul can conceive an 
immortality, it cannot be less than immortal. If, by its very nature, 

it has hopes that will not be bounded by the grave, and desires 
and longings that grasp eternity,” its nature and its destiny must 
correspond. 







179 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

THE IMMORTAL SPIRIT. 

This spirit shall return to Him 
That gave its heavenly spark; 

Yet think not, Sun, it shall be dim 
When thou thyself art dark! 

No! it shall live again and shine 
In bliss unknown to beams of thine 
By Him recall’d to breath. 

Who captive led captivity, 

Who robbed the grave of victory, 

And took the sting from death. 

Go, Sun, while mercy holds me up 
On nature’s awful waste, 

To drink this last and bitter cup 
Of grief that man shall taste— 

Go tell the night that hides thy face, 

Thou saw’st the last of Adam’s race, 

On earth’s sepulchral clod, 

The dark’ning universe defy 
To quench his immortality, 

Or shake his trust in God. 

Thomas Campbeia. 



IMMORTAL LIGHT. 


“ Creature all grandeur, son of truth and light, 

Up from the dust! the last great day is bright; 

Bright on the holy mountain, round the throne,— 
Bright where, in borrowed light, the far stars shone. 
Look down! the depths are bright! and hear them cry, 
‘ Light! light!’ Look up! ’t is rushing down from flight 
Regions on regions, far away they shine: 

’T is light ineffable, ’t is light divine! 

* Immortal light, and life forevermore!’ 

Off through the deeps is heard from shore to shore, 

Of rolling worlds,—‘ Man, wake thee from the sod,— 
Wake thee from death,—awake!—and live with Godl’ w 




180 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THKOUGH A GLASS DARKLY. 


REV. HUGH BLAIR, D. D. 



jVE are strangers in the universe of God. Confined to that 
spot on which we dwell, we are permitted to know nothing 
of what is transacting in the regions above and around 
v US. By much labor we acquire a superficial acquaintance 
with a few sensible objects which we find in our present 
habitation; but we enter and we depart, under a total 
ignorance of the nature and laws of the spiritual world. 
One subject in particular, when our thoughts proceed in this train, 
must often recur upon the mind with peculiar anxiety; that is, the 
immortality of the soul, and the future state of man. Exposed as 
we are at present to such variety of afflictions, and subjected to so 
much disappointment in all our pursuits of happiness, why, it may 
be said, has our gracious Creator denied us the consolation of a full 
discovery of our future existence, if indeed such an existence be 
prepared for us ? 

Reason, it is true, suggests many arguments in behalf of im¬ 
mortality; Revelation gives full assurance of it. Yet even that 
Gospel, which is said to have brought “life and immortality to 
light,” allows us to see only “through a glass darkly.” “It doth 
not yet appear what we shall be.” Our knowledge of a future 
world is very imperfect; our ideas of it are faint and confused. It 
is not displayed in such a manner as to make an impression suited 
to the importance of the object. The faith even of the best men is 
much inferior, both in clearness and in force, to the evidence of 
sense; and proves on many occasions insufficient to counterbalance 
the temptations of the present world. Happy moments indeed there 
sometimes are in the lives of pious men; when, sequestered from 
worldly cares, and borne up on the wing of divine contemplation, 
they rise to a near and transporting view of immortal glory. But 
such efforts of the mind are rare, and cannot be long supported. 
When the spirit of meditation subsides, this lively sense of a future 
state decays; and though the general belief of it remains, yet even 
good men, when they return to the ordinary business and cares ojt 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


181 


life, seem to rejoin the multitude, and to reassume the same hopes, 
and fears, and interests, which influence the rest of the world. 


ooo 


CHRIST BRINGS IMMORTALITY TO LIGHT. 


PRESIDENT NOAH PORTER, D. D. LL. D. 



j? HOSE who acknowledge no God,but a mysterious force, those 
|j who deny to God personality and thought, and affection 


* and sympathy, most reasonably find no evidence in nature 
for a future life—when they look in her stony and inflexible 
^ face, they find all the evidence to be against it. Let such a 


man awake to the fact that God is, that he lives a personal 
life, that nature is not so much his hiding-place as it is a garment of 
his revealing light, that the forces of nature are his instruments and 
the laws of nature his steadying and eternal thoughts, that man is 
made after God’s image and can interpret his thoughts and commune 
with his living self, that life is man’s school, every arrangement 
and lesson of which points to a definite end, that the end is not ac¬ 
complished here—then not only does there spring up in his heart the 
hope that this life shall be continued another, but this hope becomes 
almost a certainty. Let now God be seen to break forth from his 
hiding-place, and to manifest himself in the Christ who conquers 
death and brings the immortal life to light through his rising and 
ascension, and the hope that had been reached as a conclusion of 
assured conviction is shouted forth in the song of triumph—“ Blessed 
be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, according to 
his abundant mercy, hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by 
the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance in¬ 
corruptible, undefiled, and that f adeth not away.” 



Can we forget departed friends? Ah, no! 

Within our hearts their memory buried lies; 

The thought that where they are we too shall go, 
Will cast a light o’er darkest scenes of woe. 






182 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE IMMORTAL MIND. 


ANNE STEELE. 


w 



HY should this immortal mind 
Enslav'd by sense, be thus confined, 

[9 And never, never rise? 

Why, thus amused with empty toys, 

And soothed with visionary joys, 

Forget her native skies? 

The mind was formed to mount sublime 
Beyond the narrow bounds of time, 

To everlasting things; 

But earthly vapors cloud her sight, 

And hang with cold, oppressive weight 
Upon her drooping wings. 


The world employs its various snares, 

Of hopes and pleasures, pains and cares, 
And chained to earth I lie: 

When shall my fettered powers be free, 
And leave these seats of vanity, 

And upward learn to fly ? 


Bright scenes of bliss, unclouded skies, 

Invite my soul; oh, could I rise, 

Nor leave a thought below! 

I’d bid farewell to anxious care, 

And say to every tempting snare, 

Heaven calls and I must go. 

Heaven calls,—and can I yet delay? 

Can aught on earth engage my stay ? 

Ah! wretched lingering heart! 

Come, Lord, with strength, and life, and light, 
Assist and guide my upward flight, 

And bid the world depart. 



I look to recognize again, through the beautiful mask of their perfection, 
The dear familiar faces I have somewhile loved on earth; 

I long to talk with grateful tongue of storms and perils past, 

And praise the mighty Pilot that hath steered us through the rapids. 






































BCCE HOMC 


f 

l 






















THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 


ET. KEY. SAMUEL FALLOWS, 


D. D. 



AKE clear the fact of the resurrection of Christ, it will be 
a fact that chimes with humanity’s unutterable longings, 
t x and fits in as the key-stone of the radiant arch of its 
^ hopes. Make clear that fact, and then, as the meridian 
sun brings out in all their boldness the mountains, and in 
all their beauty, the swarded valleys faintly described in the 
dim twilight, so will a risen Sun of righteousness bring out these 
hints, and truths, and ideas, in controlling power over the intellect, 
and influence over the practical life. Make clear that fact, and one 
simple-minded Christian believer, full of resurrection power, shall 
chase a thousand carping rationalists, and two shall put ten thousand 
to flight. Our faith in God, asks of God—a risen Redeemer. 

St. Paul claims, if Christ be not risen, faith in Him is vain. So 
interwoven with the very life, and teachings, and death of Christ was 
the truth of His resurrection, that to deny the latter would be to 
destroy, root and branch, all faith in Him as Teacher and Savior. 
He had said, “ Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it 
again.” After the surpassing glory of the transfiguration, he had 
commanded, “ Tell the vision to no man until the Son of man be risen 
from the dead.” 

He must either have been unconsciously deceived, and then he 

185 






THE HOME BEYOND 


would have shown himself a weak, erring man, and no longer entitled 
to the claim of a teacher sent from God; or he must have been a 
willful impostor, and thus have sunk in the mire trodden beneath the 
feet of indignant, deluded men. If Christ be not risen, your faith is 
vain; your faith in Him as a Savior is vain. Your Christian con¬ 
sciousness is a nullity, and a He. There has been no atonement Ye 
are yet in your sins. Life, death, resurrection, all enter into the 
redeeming work of Christ He was “delivered for our offenses, and 
raised again for our justification.” “If thou shalt confess with thy 
mouth, the Lord Jesus, and believe in thine heart that God raised 
him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.” No resurrection, no sal¬ 
vation. 

He asserts of the apostles: “We are found false witnesses.” 
We, who were fully competent by reason of our numbers, to be 
believed, for there were the eleven apostles, the two Marys, Cleopas. 
the most of the seventy, and five hundred others beside. Nearly all 
were Hving, and ready to testify. Fully competent, as to our powers 
of judgment and varied experience; fully competent, from the oppor¬ 
tunities we have enjoyed of knowing the facts to which we bear 
witness. We have been with the Savior; we have known him inti¬ 
mately; we have treasured up His words. His image is stamped 
upon our hearts; we beheld His miracles; we knew he was crucified; 
we went to the tomb, expecting to find the body there; we saw Him 
alive again; we saw His pierced hands and wounded side; we heard 
the familiar voice; we received our high commission; we saw Him 
ascend into glory. 

We have gained nothing, from an earthly standpoint, but loss of 
home, of friends, of reputation. We are made the filth and off scour¬ 
ing of the world. We are made a spectacle unto angels and to men. 
Stripes, bonds, imprisonment are before us. The headsman’s axe 
glitters in the sun. “To the Hons, to the Hons!” rings in our ears. 
Covered with pitch, and set on fire, we shall Hght the streets of Rome 
by midnight! If in this Hfe only, we have hope in Christ, we are of 
all men most miserable. 

How the apostle, with jubilant utterance, turns away from the 
loathsome impossibility he has presented. 

“Now is Christ risen from the dead and become the first fruits 
of them that slept.” The irrefutable fact stands forth in all its glo¬ 
rious majesty and infinite sweep of meaning. 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


187 


The Gospel records must be torn to tatters, and scattered with 
the rent sybilline leaves, never more to be gathered. The whole 
colossal fabric of Christianity must have been built upon an abyss. 
The head and founder of the Church must have been created by the 
Church. A man must have been the father of his own ancestors, 
before this fact can be successfully denied. 

Christ is risen from the dead. His own words have been justi¬ 
fied. Christ is risen from the dead, and God has given the seal and 
sign manual to his Messianic mission. He has declared Him to be 
the Son of God, with power. Christ is risen from the dead, and an 
unsetting sun—the new and unfailing center of attraction—has burst 
forth in glory from the darkness of the tomb. Christ is risen, and 
we, too, shall rise. Every charnel house is robbed of its terrors. 
The sting has been plucked from death, and the grave been robbed of 
its victory. The darkness has- forever passed. It is morning. 

In that beautiful city of the dead, Greenwood cemetery, where 
the precious dust of so many loved ones reposes—that city, on its 
eminence, graced with flowers, fit resurrection—emblems of life and 
loveliness springing from decay, and melodious with the music of 
birds—that city, overlooking the city of the living below it, and the 
river and the sea beyond it, contains here and there a broken pedes¬ 
tal, which speaks of plans unrealized, and expectations unfulfilled; of 
aspirations unsatisfied, and ends unachieved. But on some of them 
is a hand pointing upward. A risen Christ is the inspiration of the 
thought. The upward pointing is the mute and eloquent suggestion, 
that on the plains of the New Jerusalem, the column of life shall be 
erected. 

A limited sphere here, a boundless amphitheatre there. Seeming 
failure here, assured success there. Dead hopes here, living realiza¬ 
tions there. Bafflings, disappointments here; unimpeded progress 
them Home there, rewards there, friends there, Jesus there. Can 
we doubt the life beyond? “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye 
steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, for¬ 
asmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain, in the Lord.” 


f 





188 


THE HOME BEYOND 
CHRIST IS RISEN. 


RT. REV. SAMUEL FALLOWS, D. D. 



HE funeral grief of the world was poured out when the cru 
cified Son of God yielded up His life, broken-hearted, for 
the sins and sorrows of mankind. The night of gloom 
deepened as hour succeeded hour during the tragic scenes of 
that awful Good Friday. But the morning has come, bright, 
resplendent, and glorious. The stone is rolled away; the 
tomb is empty; the two angels in shining garments announce: “ He is 
not here; He is risen.” 

No wonder this is the chief of festivals. A risen Christ—what 
does it mean ? The miracles of Christ were the badges of a minister 
plenipotentiary of the skies. The resurrection showed Him to be the 
Son of God with power. The sun of Righteousness out of that mo¬ 
mentary eclipse has emerged to be clouded no more forever. The 
winter of doubt and discontent is over and gone, for His coming has 
made glorious summer in the soul. 

Christ is risen, and the pledge of omnipotent love is given, of par¬ 
don, peace and purity to the penitent soul. Christ is risen, and com¬ 
fort comes to every desponding heart. Christ is risen, and the old 
man sees in it the renewing of perpetual youth. Christ is risen, and 
death is a discrowned monarch. For the earthly crown is laid down 
at the feet of the last enemy, but the heavenly one is taken from the 
hands of death’s conqueror. 

Christ is risen. And when we are called to send our little children 
away from the home-fold below, we know that the tender Shepherd 
waits to fold them to his bosom in the home-fold above. Christ is 
risen, and the knightly soldier in the thick of the battle, on sentry or 
on guard, knows his Commander is not dead. In every righteous 
cause he can draw his sword, and feel the assurance of ultimate vic¬ 
tory, for he hears the voice of the Captain of our salvation, who was 
dead but is alive again forevermore. “ Lo! I am with you alway, 
even unto the end of the world.” 

With might of ours can nought be done; 

Soon were our loss effected, 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


189 


But for us fights the Valiant One 
Whom God Himself elected. 

Ask ye Who is this? 

Jesus Christ it is, t 

Of Sabaoth Lord, 

And there’s none other God— 

He holds the field forever. 


THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST ATTESTS THE 
INCARNATION. 



death. 


S the incarnation is the central and fundamental miracle of 
Christianity, so the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the 
dead is the crowning attestation of the reality of the incar¬ 
nation. It is the linch-pin to that central wheel of the series. 
No mere ordinary human soul, of its own unaided power, 
ever returned into and reanimated the body it forsook at 
But this is just what Jesus of Nazareth promised He would 
do, and what Christianity claims He did do. If this claim be good, 
then Jesus was no ordinary mortal, but He was what He professed to 
be: He was the Incarnate God. His resurrection proves His claim, 
and His nature corresponds to His works. Such a resurrection puts 
the final and absolute seal of genuineness upon all His pretensions, 
the seal of authority upon all His teachings. All that the Bible re¬ 
cords of Him, from Genesis to Revelation, is fulfilled and established; 
all that He says of Himself is truth and law. The resurrection of 
Christ is, therefore, the sign-manual of Jehovah to the whole volume 
of Revelation. It is the key-stone to the entire arch of human re¬ 
demption and salvation. Not without profoundest reason, therefore, 
has the whole Christian Church, from the earliest age until now, cel¬ 
ebrated Christ’s resurrection-day with the sublimest anthems ever 
born of mortal rapture and of mortal art. Not without reason have 
sculpture and painting, eloquence and poetry, contended through all 
ages for the noblest expression of this triumph of the God man over 
death. The incarnation, like the roots of the mountain, lies vast, pro- 




190 


THE HOME BEYOND 


found, obscure, mysterious, at the bottom of our Christian hope. The 
resurrection stands like that mountain’s summit, clear, dazzling, sub¬ 
lime, in the objective light of history. 

Rev. Geo. Lansing Taylor, D. D. 


FAITH IN CHRIST’S RESURRECTION. 


In the belief of Christ’s resurrection, the gifted Baron Bunsen took 
his solemn and exultant farewell of his deeply-loved wife, saying: 
“ Love, love, we have loved each other; love cannot cease; love is eter¬ 
nal; the love of God is eternal; live in the love of God and Christ; 
those who live in the love of God must find each other again though 
we know not how; we cannot be parted; we shall see each other be¬ 
yond.” 

Faith in it made the dying soldier-boy say to his commanding offi¬ 
cer after the battle was over: “ General, I feel as if I was going to the 
front.” It rung out with the voice of transport, in the utterances of 
that Dutch lad in the Netherlands, who, with his father, was fastened 
to the stake by the brutal persecutor Titleman: “Look, my father,” 
he said, amid the flames; “all heaven is opening, and I see a hundred 
thousand angels rejoicing over us! Let us be glad, for we are dying 
for the truth.” 

Bishop Fallows. 

THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 



IjND early in the morning, we are told by the Evangelists, 
these same women started to go to the sepulchre to anoint 
his body, and found out that he was risen. Why, do you 
think if they had thought he was going to rise that they would 
have left that sepulchre? They would have lingered around it; it 
would have taken more than a hundred Roman soldiers to keep 
those disciples away from the sepulchre, if they thought he was going to 
rise. Now, early in the gray of the morning, you could see these 
women going toward the sepulchre. They had got their spices all 










OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


191 


ready to anoint that body again, and they were greatly troubled, be¬ 
cause they did not know who was going to roll away the stone. And 
you see them as they draw near to the sepulchre; and the sun has 
just driven away the darkness of the night, and that beautiful morn¬ 
ing is bursting upon the earth, the best morning this world had ever 
seem And one says to another, “ Who shall roll away the stone ? ” 
But a messenger came from yon world of light; he flew faster than 
the morning light, and arrived first. And he rolled away the stone; 
and those men that had been sent there by Pilate, to watch and guard 
that sepulchre, began to tremble, and fell as dead men; they hadn’t 
any power. One angel was enough to roll away that stone; not to let 
him out, but to let you and I look in to see that the sepulchre was 
empty, to let the morning light into that sepulchre to light it up that 
we might know that he had risen, “ the first fruits of them that slept.” 
Yes, thank God, he has conquered Death and the grave; and you can 
shout now, “ O grave, where is thy victory! ” He went down into the 
grave and conquered it, and came up out of it; and now he says, “ Be¬ 
cause I live, ye shall live also.” 

D. L. Moody. 


A CHANGED BODY. 


It has been asked how it could be that the resurrection of bodies 
which had crumbled into dust and returned again to earth—had 
reappeared in animal and vegetable life—could be accomplished. 
This could not be understood by man, who had better leave to God 
the question of philosophy, satisfied in His power to accomplish the 
apparent impossibility. But, for the satisfaction of the skeptical, 
the accomplishments of modern science, with whose aid metals could 
be apparently destroyed and again reunited in their full bulk and 
purity, and the gases of the air decomposed and again conjoined 
together, might be quoted as giving a proof that even man could do 
that which not so long ago would have been deemed impossible. And 
surely, if the chemist with his little vial of acid could do these things, 
the Omniscient and Omnipotent God could reconstruct anybody and 
everybody that had ever existed. 




192 


THE HOME BEYOND 


The doctrine of the resurrection of the body did not necessarily 
imply the preservation of the identity of the person. It is not to 
be supposed that the resurrected blind man would be blind, the dwarf 
a dwarf, and the cripple a cripple. The teachings of Scripture give 
a more beautiful belief when they make likeness to the Lord Jesus 
that which would belong to the body which would arise. 

Bey. E. P. Goodwin, D. D. 



A BISEN CHEIST VICTOBIOUS. 


BISHOP FALLOWS. 



HAT a brilliant dream that was of Napoleon’s!” He 
expected to find at St. Jean D’Acre the treasure of the 
Pasha and arms for 300,000 men. He then intended to 
raise and arm Syria, already waiting for the movement. He 
would then advance upon Damascus and Aleppo, recruit 
from a discontented country, arrive at Constantinople with 
his vast army, overturn the Sublime Porte, found a splendid 
Oriental empire, unsurpassed for magnificence, “fix his position with 
posterity,” and come back to Paris, through Vienna, dragging a sub- 
jngated Austria in triumph at his chariot wheels.” But Waterloo and 
St. Helena shattered his dream. Death made absolutely impossible 
what imprisonment made improbable. But arrest, imprisonment, 
scourging, crucifixion, death, cannot stop the victorious progress of 
the King, eternal, immortal, invisible. The glorious prediction made 
centuries before His advent in the world shall yet find its full and 
final accomplishment. “ He shall see of the travail of His soul and 
be satisfied.” “He shall have dominion from sea to sea, and from 
the rivers to the end of the earth.” “Yea, all kings shall fall down 
before him; All nations shall serve Him.” 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


193 


WE DO NOT WORSHIP A DEAD SAVIOR. 


Oh, may God help us to realize what a precious truth we have 
to preach; that we are not worshiping a dead Savior; that he is a 
resurrected Savior, and in such a day and hour as we think not he 
will return* And although we do not know when that will be, there 
is one thing we do know, and that is that he has promised to come; 
and that day is not far distant; we haven’t but a little while to work. 
As Christine Evans says: “The songs of these bursting sepulchres, 
when Christ shall come, will be sweeter than the song of the morning 
star.” We shall come up from the grave, by and by, with a shout. 
“He is the first fruits;” he has gone into the vale, and will call us 
by and by. The voice of the Son of God shall wake up the slumber¬ 
ing dead! Jacob will leave his lameness, and Paul will leave his 
thorn in the flesh; and we shall come up resurrected bodies, and be 
forever with the Lord. I pity those people who know nothing about 
the resurrection of Christ, and think Christ does not live, and was 
merely a man, and perished in the grave of Joseph Arimathea. What 
hope have they got ? 

Oh, what gloom and darkness settles down upon this world, if it 
was not for the glorious day of resurrection. And those that have 
been sown in dishonor and corruption shall be raised, by and by, in 
glory and honor; they shall come up out of their graves, and we 
shall be forever with them. Oh, may this blessed truth take hold of 
all our hearts, and may we go out from this Tabernacle and spread 
the news that the Lord has risen. He has gone up on high, and he 
will bless the sons of men, if they will receive a blessing from him. 


D. L. Moody. 



« Be worthy of death; and so learn to live 
That every Incarnation of thy soul 
In other realms, and worlds, and firmaments 
Shall be more pure and high.” 







✓ 

c 





































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 195 

KAISED ON THE LAST DAY. 

RT. REV. BISHOP JOHN HENRY HOBART, D. B. 


HAT can reason teach us here? She may indeed, by 
analogy, illustrate and confirm the doctrine of the resur¬ 
rection when it is revealed; but as an original truth she 
knew nothing of it. The tomb received in its dark 
embrace the mouldering body, and there was no light that 
dawned on the night of the grave. “ Blessed then be the 
God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath begotten us to a 
lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead ” (I 
Pet. i. 3 ). “ He is the first-fruits of them that slept” (I Cor, xv. 20); 

and at the great harvest, in the last day, “ those who sleep in Jesus 
will God bring with him ” (I Thess. iv. 14). The body, sown in 
corruption, shall be raised in incorruption—sown in dishonor, it 
shall be raised in glory—sown in weakness, it shall be raised in 
power—sown a natural body, it shall be raised a spiritual body. 

How is all this to be effected ? By that mighty power which 
raised up Christ from the dead. Here we take our stand—on the 
omnipotence of God—and defy every attack against the doctrine of 
the resurrection. We laugh to soorn all attempts to wrest from us 
our hope, through a supposed impossibility of the resurrection, as 
puny struggles against the omnipotence of God. Did he not at first 
construct a human form from the dust of the earth? Did he not 
breathe into a mass of clay the breath of life ? And when he again 
speaks, shall it not be done ? Can he not again bring bone to bone, 
sinew to its sinew, flesh to its flesh? Fear not, Christian! thy dust 
may be scattered to the winds of heaven—but thy God is here. It 
may repose in the lowest abysses of the grave—He is there. It may 
dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea—even there His hand shaL 
lead thee, His right hand shall hold thee, and bring thee forth, 
incorruptible and glorious, like unto that body which now receives 
the homage of the angels around the throne. Thou shalt be raised at 
the last day. Let us comfort one another with these words. 





196 


THE HOME BEYOND 

CHRIST’S RESURRECTION BODY. 


1? THINK if you would look through your Bible? carefully, 
you will find that ten different times He appeared to his 
disciples, not in the spirit, but in the body, in person. I 
want to get this thing established in all our minds, that 
% Christ has come out of the grave personally, that His body 
i has gone back to heaven, The same body they crucified, 
the same body they laid in Joseph’s sepulchre has come out of the 
jaws of death and out of the sepulchre; and he has passed through 
the heavens and gone back on high. We are told He had an inter¬ 
view with Peter, who is alluded to as Simon and as Cephas. We can 
imagine what took place at that interview, and that Peter’s old 
difficulty was settled. Peter denied Him, but at that interview Christ 
forgave him. What a Sabbath it must have been for Peter! What 
a blessed day foi that poor backslider! And if there is some back¬ 
slider here to-day, who will have an interview with*the Son of God, 
he will forgive you this Easter morning, and blot out all your 
wanderings and all your sins, if you will come back; and it will be a 
joyful day for you. 

D. L. Moody. 


CHRIST CONQUERED DEATH FOR US. 

Christ has not only conquered sin and death in Himself, but in 
and for some of our kind. These, thus raised, are the evidences of 
His victory and the pledges of our resurrection. They are the first 
fruits, with Himself, of them that slept. As Enoch and Elijah arc 
typeB and assurances of those who will be changed at the last day, so 
these trophies of Christ are the sure tokens of His victory and type of 
our own resurrection. With these He ascended up on high, and 
made an open show of them. If a man die, shall he live again ? asks 
Job. This question is sublimely and satisfactorily answered in the 
text. Our assurance in Christ, is that we shall have an eternal life of 
body, soul, and spirit—painless and deathless. He came not to 
destroy, but that we might have life more abundantly. 

Rev. Joseph Wild, D. D, 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


197 


THE DEAD GLORIFIED THROUGH CHRIST. 


REV. DR. GUTHRIE. 


ND in Christ, the first-born, I see the grave giving up its 
dead; from the depths of the sea, from lonely wilderness 



and crowded churchyard they come, like the dews of the 
grass, an innumerable multitude. Risen Lord! we rejoice 
in thy resurrection. We hail it as the harbinger and 
blessed pledge of our own. The first to come forth, thou 
art the elder brother of a . family, whose countless numbers the 
patriarch saw in the dust of the desert, whose holy beauty he saw 
shining in the bright stars of heaven. 

The first-born! This spoils the grave of its horrors, changing the 
tomb into a capacious womb that death is daily filling with the germs 
of life. The first fruits! This explains why men called the church¬ 
yard, as once they did, God’s acre. Looking at these grassy mounds 
in the light of that expression, the eye of faith sees it change into a 
field sown with the seeds of immortality. Blessed field! What 
flowers shall spring there! What a harvest shall be gathered there! 
In the neighboring fields “ whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he 
also reap;” but here how great the difference between what is sown 
amid mourners’ tears, and what shall be reaped amid angels’ joys; 
between the poor body we restore to the earth, and the noble form 
that shall spring from its ashes. Who saw the rolling waves stand 
up a rocky wall; who saw the water of Cana flow out rich purple 
wine; who saw Lazarus’s festering corpse, with health glowing on its 
cheek, and its arms enfolding sisters ready to faint with joy, saw 
nothing to match the change the grave shall work on these moulder¬ 
ing bones. Sown in corruption, they shall rise in incorruption, mortal 
putting on immortality. How beautiful they shall be! Never more 
shall hoary time write age on a wrinkled brow. The whole terrible 
troop of diseases cast with sin into hell, the Saints shall possess un¬ 
fading beauty, and enjoy a perpetual youth; a pure soul shall be 
mated with a worthy partner in a perfect body, and an angel form 
shall lodge an angel mind. There shall be be no more death, nor 
sighing, nor sorrow for there shall be no more sin. 





108 


THE HOME BEYOND 
PROOF OF CHRIST’S RESURRECTION. 


REV. JOHN EADIE, D. D. LL. D. 



HE apostle could easily have given them indubitable evidence 
that Christ had been raised from the dead; as, for example, 
that His tomb was guarded, and that the sentinels only 
befooled themselves and those who suborned them, by their 
contradictory announcement—“His disciples came and stole 
Him away while we slept.” Roman soldiers asleep on special 
duty, and forward to confess it—asleep on a post which 
they were warned might be assailed—all of them asleep at the same 
instant, and when under orders of unusual strictness—asleep, and 
yet able to tell what happened, what was done, and who did it, toO, 
when their eyes were shut in unanimous slumber—all of them asleep^ 
and yet not one of them awakened by the noise and confusion of the 
earthquake which preceded the resurrection! Nor had the disciples 
any motive to do the act imputed to them. They had no idea that 
their Master should rise again, and all their hopes were buried along 
with Him. They could, therefore, never dream of such an attempt 
as stealing His body, it being of no use to them, as they had no 
romance to base upon its absence; and if they had, the eleven pol¬ 
troons who “ forsook Him and fled ” at the sight of the soldiers in the 
garden, would never have ventured to attack a Roman guard of 
sixteen men under the bright moonlight of the eastern heavens. 
Farther, He who had risen appeared to His former friends who could 
identify Him, and on the spot, too, where He had been put to death. 
It was not as if one supposed to have risen in Glasgow should be 
said to have appeared first in Inverness, where he was a comparative 
stranger. It was not as if it were alleged that one had risen, but 
that the stoiy was only first heard of a half century after the imag. 
ined event. At the time when, and in the place where He had died 
and been buried, did the Lord appear, when full investigation could 
be made into all the circumstances, and into the testimony of crowds 
of living witnesses. But those who should have originated and con¬ 
ducted the inquiry shrank from it under the impression that the 
result would not be to their satisfaction, and resorted to the miserable 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


199 


refuge of authority, “straitly threatening” the witnesses to say no 
more on the matter; while they who were “witnesses of these things” 
had no end to gain, and no worldly advantage to secure; on the 
contrary, proscription and death resulted from the avowal of their 
belief in this momentous tenet. 


BEHOLD THE PLACE WHERE THEY LAID HIM. 



HE angels would have the disciples see the empty sepulchre, 
as if that sight were enough to convince them of the certainty 
of Christ’s resurrection. So it was. His disciples were too 
timid to attempt the removal, and his enemies were determined 
to hold the dead body in their grasp. The sight of the empty 
place should therefore be sufficient evidence of Christ’s resur¬ 
rection. 

Let us also “ behold the place,” gaze on the consecrated spot and 
gather in the wonders with which it is haunted. It is the scene of 
the mightiest prodigy ever known on earth. There the dead stirred 
itself, the inanimate Being sprung by his own volition into life. Be¬ 
hold, and acknowledge the Divinity of Christ. “Behold the place;” 
in being emptied, earth and sea may be said to have given up their 
dead—Christ was the representative of the countless myriads of hu¬ 
man kind. Behold the change effected by the Bedeemer for his fol¬ 
lowers—the grave, instead of being the home of all that is hideous and 
revolting, has an angel for its tenant, rich odors for its perfume. 
The grave has become a bed and death a sleep to those who put faith 
in His name. Behold it in your tears and sorrow, not as those who 
have no hope—in your hopes, that you may look for glorious things 
from your Forerunner. Behold it, ye who care little for the soul and 
eternity, and think if Christ can be neglected with impunity—flee to 
Him as a Saviour before He appears as an Avenger. Patiently in¬ 
spect the empty sepulchre and learn all its lessons. 

Rev. Canon H. Melville, D. D. 












































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


201 


THE RESURRECTION BOUY. 


JOSEPH COOtf 



*F you come to the conclusion that there is an invisible, 
non-atomic, ethereal enswathement, which the soul fills, and 
through which it flashes more rapidly than electricity 
any cloud, you must remember that the majestic authority 
for that statement is simply the axiom that every change 
must have an adequate cause. This is cool precision-, this 
is exact research on the edge of the tomb. Professor Beale says, in 
so many words, “ that the force which weaves these tissues must be 
separable from the body; ” for it very plainly is not the result of the 
action of physical agents. Ulrici shows, especially in a magnificent 
passage on immortality, that all the latest results of physiological 
research go to show that immortality is probable. 

You say that, unless we can prove the existence of something for 
the substratum of mind, we may be doubtful about the persistency 
of memory after death; but what if this non-atomic, ethereal body 
goes out of the physical form at death ? In that case, what materi¬ 
alist will be acute enough to show that memory does not go out also ? 
You affirm that, without matter, there can be no activity of mind; 
and that, although the mind may exist without matter, it cannot 
express itself. You say that unless certain, I had almost said‘mate¬ 
rial, records regain in possession of the soul when it is out of the 
body, there must be oblivion of all that occurred in this life. But 
how are you to meet the newest form of science, which gives the soul 
a non-atomic enswathement as the page on which to write its records? 
That page is never torn up. The acutest philosophy is now ponder, 
ing what the possibilities of this non-atomic, ethereal body are, when 
separated from the fleshy body; and the opinion of Germany is 
ooming to be very emphatic, that all that materialists have said about 
our memory ending when our physical bodies are dissolved, and 
about there being no possibility of the activity of the soul in separa¬ 
tion from the physical body, is simply lack of education. There is 
high authority and great unanimity on the propositions I am now 
defending; and although I do not pledge myself always to defend 




202 


THE HOME BEYOND 


every one of these theses, yet I must ^lo so in the present state 
of knowledge and in the name of a gulf. Current of speculation which 
is twenty-five years old, and has a very victorious aspect as we look 
backward to the time when the microscope began its revela¬ 
tions. 

It becomes clear, therefore, that, even in that state of exist¬ 
ence which succeeds death, the soul may have a spiritual 
body. 

The existence of that body preserves the memories acquired 
during life in the flesh. 

If this ethereal, non-atomic enswathement of the soul be 
interpreted to mean what the Scriptures mean by a spiritual body, 
there is entire harmony between the latest results of science and the 
inspired doctrine of the resurrection. . . . 

When the Bible speaks of a spiritual body, it does not imply 
that the soul is material; it does not teach materialism at all; it 
simply implies that the soul has a glorified enswathement, which will 
accompany it in the next world. I believe that it is a distinct 
biblical doctrine, that there is a spiritual body as there is a natural 
body, and that the former has extraordinary powers. 



“ Whether buried in the earth, or floating in the sea, or con¬ 
sumed by the flames, or enriching the battle-field, or evaporated in the 
atmosphere,—all, from Adam to the latest-born, shall wend their way 
to the great arena of the judgment. Every perished bone and every 
secret particle of dust shall obey the summons and come forth. If 
one could then look upon the earth, he would see it as one mighty 
excavated globe, and wonder how such countless generations could 
have found a dwelling beneath its surface. 


Rev. Gardner Spring, D. D. 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

HE IS NOT HERE; HE IS RISENN. 


203 


CANON F. W. FARRAR, D. D. 



ij HRIST is risen.” How these words change the whole 
P aspect of human life! Nothing short of this could be our 
proof and pledge that we also shall rise. We are not left to 
dim intimations or vague hopes, or faint analogies, but we 
have a permanent and a firm conviction, a sure and certain 
hope. Look into the Savior’s empty tomb. “ He is not 
He is risen, as He said.” They that sleep in all those narrow 
graves shall wake again, shall rise again. W T eep not widowed wife, 
father, orphan boy, Thy dead shall live. They shall come forth from 
the power of death and Hades. What a mighty victory! What a 
giant sporting* What a trampling of the last enemy beneath the 
feet! What a hope, what a change in the thought of life! Bravely 
and happily let us walk through the dark valley, for out of it is a 
door of immortality that opens on the gardens of heaven and the 
streams of life, where the whole soul is flooded by the sense of a 
newer and grander being, and our tears wiped away by God’s own 
hand. This is the Christian’s hope truly, and herein Christ makes 
us more than conquerors, for we not only triumph over the enemy, 
but profit by him, wringing out of his curse a blessing, out of his 
prison a coronation and a home. “It is sown in corruption, it is 
raised in incorruption.” Let us live in love, in humility, in Christ 
and for Christ. This will make us noble and happy in life, this will 
strengthen us to smile at death, this will cause us to live all our days 
in the continual light of these two most marvelous of all Christian 
truths: the resurrection of the body, and the immortality of the 
soul. 


“So, thou hast immortality in mind? 

Hast grounds that will not let thee doubt it? 
The strongest ground herein I find:— 

That we could never do without It l” 







HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEH, 


< 























































































































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 


205 


DR. TALMAGE. 



UMEROUS scriptural accounts say that the work ox grave 
? breaking will begin with the blast of trumpets and shoutings, 
' whence I take it that the first intimation of the day will be 
a sound from heaven such as has never before been heard. 
It may not foe so very loud, but it will be penetrating. 
There are mausoleums so deep that undisturbed silence has 
slept there ever since the day when the sleepers were left in them. 
The great noise shall strike through them. Among the corals of the 
sea, miles deep, where the shipwrecked rest, the sound will strike. 
No one will mistake it for thunder or the blast of earthly minstrelsy. 
There will be heard the voice of the uncounted millions 
of the dead, who come rushing out of the gates of eternity^ 
flying toward the tomb, crying: “Make way! O grave, give 
Us back our body! We gave it to you in corruption; surrender 
it now in incorruption. 55 Thousands of spirits arising from the field 
of Waterloo, and from among the rocks of Gettysburg, and from 
among the passes of South Mountain. A hundred thousand are 
crowding Greenwood. On thi3 grave three spirits meet, for there 
Were three bodies in that tomb; over that family vault twenty spirits 
hover, for there were twenty bodies. From New York to Liverpool, 
at every few miles on the sea route, a group of hundreds of spirits 
(Coming down to the water to meet their bodies. See that multitude! 
that is where the u Central America ” sank. And yonder multitude! 
—that is where the “Pacific” went down. Found at last! That 
.3 where the “ City of Boston ” sank. And yonder the “ President” 
>;ent down- A solitary spirit alights on yonder prairie—that is 
where a traveler perished in the snow. The whole air is full of spir¬ 
its: spirits flying north, spirits flying south, spirits flying east, spirits 
flying west. Crash! goes Westminster Abbey, as all its dead kings, 
and orators, and poets get up. Strange commingling of spirits 
searching among the ruins. William Wilberforce, the good; and 
Queen Elizabeth, the bad. Crash! go the Pyramids, and the mon 








206 


THE HOME BEYOND 


archs of Egypt rise out of the heart of the desert. Snap! go the 
iron gates of the modern vaults. The country graveyard will look 
like a rough-ploughed field as the mounds break open. All the 
kings of the earth; all the senators; all the great men; all the beg¬ 
gars; all the armies—victors and vanquished; all the ages—barbaric 
and civilized; all those who were chopped by guillotine, or simmered 
in the fire, or rotted in dungeons; all the infants of a day; all the 
octogenarians—all! all! Not one straggler left behind. All! all! 
And now the air is darkened with the fragments of bodies that are 
coming together from the opposite corners of the earth. Lost limbs 
finding their mate—bone to bone, sinew to sinew—until every joint 
is reconstructed, and every arm finds its socket, and the amputated 
limb of the surgeon’s table shall be set again at the point from which 
it was severed. A surgeon told me that after the battle of Bull 
Run he amputated limbs, throwing them out of the window, until 
the pile reached up to the window-sill. All those fragments will 
have to take their places. Those who were born blind shall have 
eyes divinely kindled; those who were lame shall have a limb substi¬ 
tuted. In all the hosts of the resurrected not one eye missing; not 
one foot clogged; not one arm palsied; not one tongue dumb; not 
one ear deal 


THE EVENING CLOUD. 


A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, 

A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow: 

Long had I watched the glory moving on 
O’er the still radiance of the lake below. 

Tranquil its spirit seem’d, and floated slow, 

Even in its very motion there was rest; 

While every breath of eve that chanced to blow 
Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west 
Emblem, methought, of the departed soul! 

To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given, 
And by the breath of mercy made to roll 

Right onwards to the golden gates of heaven, 
Where, to the eye of faith, it peaceful lies, 

And tells to man its glorious destinies. 

Professor Wilson. 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

THE RESURRECTION ILLUSTRATED. 


207 


H. W. THOMAS, D. D. 


O it is that out of these elementary particles human bodies 
are builded, and out of nature’s storehouse God will in 
some way reinvest the spirit with a material organism. We 
can well believe that this is possible in the light of what 
chemistry can do. There are many things which the chem¬ 
ist can do which we would not believe to be possible did we 
not know them to be facts. I think it is Dr. Brown who quotes from 
Mr. Hallet the story of a gentleman who was something of a chem¬ 
ist, who had given a faithful servant a silver cup. The servant 
dropped the cup in a vessel of what he supposed to be pure water, 
but which in reality was aqua fortis. He let it he there, not think¬ 
ing it could receive any harm, but, returning some time after, saw 
the cup gradually dissolving. He was loudly bewailing his loss when 
he was told that his master could restore the cup for him. He could 
not believe it. “ Do you not see,” he said* “ that it is dissolving 
before our sight?” But at last the master was brought to the spot. 
He Called for some salt water, which he poured into the vessel, and 
told the servant to watch. By and by the silver cup began to gather 
as a white powder at the bottom. When the deposit was complete 
the master said to the servant, “Pour off the liquid, gather up this 
dust, have it melted and run together, then take it to the workman 
and let him hammer the cup again.” You may take gold; you may 
file it down to a powder, mix it with other metals, throw it into the 
fire, do what you will with it, and the chemist will bring back with 
certainty the exact gold. 

Thus our bodies are built up by fruits from the tropics, by 
grain from the prairies. The flesh that roamed the plains as cattle 
has become part of us. If God can build up human bodies here, can 
He not find and convert the dust that we put away in the grave, and 
bring it back to forms of life? In my judgment, God is able to pre¬ 
serve even the particles of the human body and restore them. So 
far as the power is concerned, it can be done, and will be done, as 
God may think best. 








THE COMING FORTH OF LAZARUS. 
































































































































OB VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 

CHRIST ROSE BY HIS OWN POWER. 


REV. DR. GUTHRIE. 



£E rose in the night; no hand at the door, no voice in his ear, 


no rough touch awaking him. Other watchers than Pilate’s 


mfr soldiers stood by the sepulchre *, but these angels whom it 
A? well became to keep guard at this dead man’s chamber door, 
l beyond opening it, beyond rolling away the stone, 1 eyond 

I looking on with wondering eyes, took no part in the scenes of 

that eventful morning. The hour sounds; the appointed time arrives. 
Having slept out his sleep, Jesus stirs ; he awakes of his own accord 
he rises by his own power; and arranging, or leaving attending angels 
to arrange, the linen clothes, he walks out on the dewy ground, be¬ 
neath the starry sky, to turn grief into the greatest joy, and hail the 
breaking of the brightest morn that ever rose on this guilty world. 
That open empty tomb assures us of a day when ours too shall be as 
empty. Having raised himself, he has power to raise his people, 
Panic-stricken soldiers flying the scene, and Mary rising from his 
blessed feet to hasten to the city, to rush through the streets, to burst 
in among the disciples, and with a voice of joy to crj 7 , He is risen, 
He is risen ! prove this is no vain brag or boast, “I lay down my 
life that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay 
it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power 
to take it again.” 



THE MAGI AND THE RESURRECTION. 


We have the unequivocal assertion of Theopompus, in the 
fourth century before Christ, that the Magi taught the doctrine of a 
general resurrection. “ At the appointed epoch Ahriman shall be 
subdued,” and “ men shall live again and shall be immortal.” And 
Diogenes adds, “Eudemus of Rhodes affirms the same things.” Aris¬ 
totle calls Ormuzd Zeus, and Ahriman Haides, the Greek names 
respectively of the lord of the starry Olympians above, and the 
monarch of the Stygian ghosts beneath. 


W, R. Alger. 






210 


THE HOME BEYOND 


CHRIST’S RETURN TO HEAVEN. 


REV. T. DE WITT TALMAGE, D. D. 


fourth exceptional gala day in heaven, was the day of 
Christ’s resumption of his old place. The psalms and the 
epistles give us some intimation of the excitement, If we 
have an intimate friend go away to be gone a year, we aecom- 
y pany bim to the wharf, we go out with him to the “Narrows,” 

I we enjoin him that he write to us often, and we are impatient for 
the return. If a sea captain be gone on a whaling voyage for two or 
three years, it is a long time ; but Christ was absent from home thirty- 
three years, and that is a long time, whether on earth or in heaven. 
But the day of his expatriation was over. The day of his return has 
arrived. Heaven presses out toward the banks to welcome him. All 
the bright, sailing craft of heaven push out toward the mouth of the 
harbor, Jesus is coming! See the flotilla rounding in, bringing our 
king and conqueror. Millions at one instant catch a glimpse of him 
and cry “Hail! Hail!” The batteries of heaven boom forth their greet¬ 
ing. Jesus disembarks amid the joy and acclamation of all the nations 
of the saved, Those whose tears he had wiped away, those whose 
dead he had raised—they crowd around him, they lift him on their 
shoulders, they hoist him on that white horse that St. John saw in 
Apocalyptic vision—all heaven following him on white horses, while 
at every turn the cry is, “Ride on, Conqueror!” On, under triumphal 
arches, not such as were lifted for Titus, or Caesar, or Alexander, 
but such of amethystine masonry as heaven only can afford. On, by 
glassy sea. On, by pearly gate. On, by eternal columns. On, 
covered with the scars of Golgotha. On, -until he reaches the palace 
gate. “Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates, <md let the King 
of Glory come in!” cry the heralds as they swing their swords of 
flame to the porters who keep the gates, “Lift up your heads!” They 
lift. The way is clear. The torn and bleeding feet that went up the 
heights of Calvary go up the stairs of the eternal throne, and on the 
forehead once cut with the twisted thorns are placed the garlands into 
which are woven all the coronals of universal dominion. Down, all 
heaven, at his feet and worship. Prophets, and martyrs, and apostles, 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


211 


and confessors—down. Some on your knees and some on your face. 
—down. Cherubim and arch-angel—down. All heaven—down- 
And he shall reign forever and ever. Hallelujah! 



JEWISH RABBIS ON THE RESURRECTION. 


When you bury me, put shoes on my feet, and give me a staff 
in /my hand, and lay me on one side, that when the Messiah comes I 
may be ready. 

Rabbi Jerekiah. 


Rabbi Abbu says, “ A day of rain is greater than the resurrec¬ 
tion of the dead; because the rain is for all, while the resurrection is 
only for the just. ‘Sodom and Gomorrah shall not rise in the 
resurrection of the dead.’” 

The patriarchs so vehemently desired to be buried in the land of 
Israel, because those who are dead in' that land shall be the first to 
revive and shall devour his years, [the years of the Messiah.] But 
for those just who are interred beyond the holy land, it is to be 
understood that God will make a passage in the earth, through which 
they will be rolled until they reach the land of Israel. 

Rabrichebbo. 


Carefulness leads us to innocence, innocence to purity, purity to 
sanctity, sanctity to humility, humility to fear of sins, fear of sins to 
piety, piety to the holy spirit, the holy spirit to the resurrection of the 
dead; the resurrection of the dead to the prophet Elias. 

Rabbi Pinchas. 



The very nerves and sinews of religion is hope of Immortality. 
The destruction of such high powers is something which can never, 
and under no circumstances, even come into question. 


Goethe. 







t 



THE ASCENSION OF CHRIST* 













































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































V 












































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

HEAVEN A HOME CIRCLE. 


215 


TALMAGE. 


EAVEN is not a stately, formal place, as I sometimes hear 
it described, a very frigidity of splendor, where people 
stand on cold formalities and go around about with 
heavy crowns of gold on their heads. No, that is not 
my idea of heaven. My idea of heaven is more like this. 
You are seated in the evening-tide by the fire-place, your 
whole family there, or nearly all of them there. While you are 
seated talking and enjoying the evening hour, there is a knock at 
the door and the door opens, and there comes in a brother that 
has been long absent. He has been absent, for years you have not 
seen him, and no sooner do you make up your mind that it is cer¬ 
tainly he than you leap up, and the question is who shall give him 
the first embrace. That is my idea of heaven—a great home circle 
where they are waiting for us. Oh, will you not know your 
mothers there? She who always called you by your first name 
long after others had given you the formal “Mister?” You were 
never anything but James, or John, or George, or Thomas, or 
Mary, or Florence to her. Will you not know your child’s voice? 
She of the bright eye, and the ruddy cheek, and the quiet step, 
who came in from play and flung herself into your lap, a very 
shower of mirth and beauty? Why, the picture is graven in your 
soul. It cannot wear out. If that little one should stand on the 
jther side of some heavenly hill and call to you, you would, hear 
her voice above the burst of heaven’s great orchestra. Know it! 
You could not help but know it. 

. . . — x ^~~~= - 














216 


THE HOME BEYOND 


AT EVENING TIME IT SHALL BE LIGHT. 


HE revolution of years is silently bringing nearer and 
nearer the evening time of the moral world. God’s ad- 
• ministration of this world’s affairs is approaching a 
glorious completion. The mystery and darkness that 
now invest His throne will be dissipated, and his ways 
shall be justified before the assembled universe. The 
hands of the clock of time are moving on, slowly and silently, 
to an hour which shall be universally knuwn and felt, soon as 
it is reached, as the end of Time. Oh, that last evening time of 
the world, what pen can adequately picture it? The cloudy day 
of Providence will end, and in the light of the great white throne 
of judgment the grandest vindication of His government will be 
made by Jehovah Himself! The reason and equity of his acts 
will no longer appear uncertain. A thousand queries, suggested 
by as many strange things of our present state, will be answered. 
The prayer of the old reformer, that we offer, now and then as we 
are brought under darkness, “more light, Lord; more light, more 
light!” will be granted in a manner that will awe us down into the 
profoundest attitude of thankfulness. 

Then will there be made an adjustment of contrary things. 
Innocence will be vindicated and rewarded, and guilt exposed and 
punished. Hypocrisies will be bared to the sight of ten times ten 
thousand angelic witnesses, and sincerity will lift up its face with¬ 
out a blush. Inequalities of rank and condition will be rectified, 
Good and evil will be forever separated. Truth and error will 
dissolve companionship. The right shall be established and the 
wrong put down. Justice will be administered by Oue who can¬ 
not err. Merit will be recognized and receive its due reward, and 
mere pretense will be put to shame. Oh! what a clearing away 
of mists there will be! What startling revelations will be 
made! And the finale of that wonderful scene of the last judg¬ 
ment the voices of ten times ten thousand angels and arch 
angels, joining with the hosts of the saved from earth, 
shall be heard exclaiming, “Blessing and honor, and powet. 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


217 


and glory be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne! Great and 
marvelous are Thy works, Lord God Almighty, just and true are 
Thy ways, Thou King of Saints!” Rev. W. H. Lickenback. 

— --= X t-EEE= - 

THE CITY OF GOD FOR ME. 

REV. R. S. STORRS, D. D. 


HERE is a city of God for me. His promises, thick as the 


on the Seine, and Vienna on the Blue Danube. But in the 
city “not made with hands,” God has combined all beauty and 
opulences suited to a spiritual body. There will be song and 
worship, work and rest. The expectation of it has given a lustre 
to many a humble life and the death-bed. It is our privilege to 
walk in the light of this inspiring hope. In all our study and labor, 
in all our joy and gloom, let this eternal, illuminating truth of the 
lordship of God and his public presidency over all events inter¬ 
pret every mystery, for “all these come forth from the Lord of 
hosts, wonderful in counsel and excellent in working.” 

—— —a .— - 




fragments of the jasper floor, will all be redeemed. He 
has prepared for me a city. Kings have reared their cities 
Rome sits on her seven hills, and Venice on her lagoon, the 
Queen of the Adriatic; Naples on her crescent bay, Paris 


There comes the thought of glory, 
To which our friends are gone; 
The far surpassing glory, 

Beyond what earth has known. 
Es tate of light and gladness, 
Where tears are wiped away; 
The joy in blessed fullness 
Of everlasting day. 



















r 



. ..v • I •»•*/,* 





/ 


\ 



I 


v. 


■ 


1 
















OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


219 


HEAVEN SOUGHT THROUGH TROUBLE. 


REV. T. DE WITT TALMAGE, D. D. 



out fatiguing toil, and all our homes afflicted? Why the hard 
pillow, the hard crust, the hard struggle ? It is easy enough to 
explain a smile, or a success, or a congratulation; but, come now, and 
bring all your dictionaries and all your philosophies and all your 
religions, and help me this evening to explain a tear. A chemist will 
tell you that it is made up of salt and lime, and other component 
parts, but he misses the chief ingredients—the acid of a soured life, 
the viperan sting of a bitter memory, the fragments of a broken 
heart. I will tell you what a tear is; it is agony in solution. 

Hear me, then, while I discourse to you of the ministry of tears, 
and of the ending of that ministry when God shall wipe them all 
away. 

If it were not for trouble, this world would be a good enough 
heaven for me. You and I would be willing to take a lease of this 
life for a hundred million years, if there were no trouble. 

The earth cushioned and upholstered and pillared and chandel- 
iered with such expense, no story of other worlds could enchant us. 
We would say: “Let well enough alone. If you want to die and 
have your body disintegrated in the dust, and your soul go out on a 
celestial adventure, then you can go; but this world is good enough 
for me.” You might as well go to a man who has just entered the 
Louvre at Paris, and tell him to hasten off to the picture galleries of 
Venice or Florence. “ Why,” he would say, “what is the use of my 
going there ? There are Rembrandts and Rubens and Raphaels here 
that I haven’t looked at yet.” No man wants to go out of this world, 
or out of any house until he has a better house. 

After a man has had a good deal of trouble, he says, “Well, 1 






220 


THE HOME BEYOND 


am ready to go. If there is a house somewhere whose roof doesn't 
leak, I would like to live there. If there is an atmosphere some¬ 
where that does not distress the lungs, I would like to breathe it. If 
there is a society somewhere where there is no tittle-tattle, I would 
like to live there. If there is a home-circle somewhere where lean find 
my lost friends, I would like to go there.” He used to read the first 
part of the Bible chiefly, now he reads the last part of the Bible 
chiefly. Why has he changed Genesis for Revelation ? Ah! he used 
to be anxious chiefly to know how this world was made, and all about 
its geological construction. Now he is chiefly anxious to know how 
the next world was made, and how it looks, and who live there, and 
how they dress. He reads Revelation ten times now where he reads 
Genesis once. The old story, “In the beginning God created the 
heavens and the earth,” does not thrill him half as much as the other 
story, “ I saw a new heaven and a new earth.” The old man’s hand 
trembles as he turns over this apocalyptic leaf, and he has to take 
out his handkerchief to wipe his spectacles. That book of Revelation 
is a prospectus now of the country into which he is to soon immi¬ 
grate; the country in which he has lots already laid out, and avenues 
opened, and tress planted, and mansions built. The thought of that 
blessed place comes over me mightily, and I declare that if this house 
were a great ship, and you all were passengers on board it, and one 
hand could launch that ship into the glories of heaven, I should be 
tempted to take the responsibility, and launch you all into glory with 
one stroke, holding on to the side of the boat until I could get in 
myself! And yet there are people here to whom this world is 
brighter than heaven. Well, dear souls, I do not blame you. It is 
natural. But, after a while, you will be ready to go. It was not 
until Job had been worn out with bereavements and carbuncles and 
a pest of a wife that he wanted to see God. It was not until the 
prodigal got tired of living among the hogs that he wanted to go to 
his father’s house. It is the ministry of trouble to make this world 
worth less, and heaven worth more. 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


221 


PROGRESSION IN HEAVEN. 


REV. D. M. REID. 


HE soul will have a progressive life there. This is its pres¬ 
ent nature. Begin with it as you find in the infant, and 
watch it until it attains the power and brilliancy of a New¬ 
ton’s or Shakespeare, and have you not sufficient evidence 
that it is a progressive entity ? It will continue thus. 

There will, however, be one striking difference between 
its progress here and its progress on the higher fields of its endeavors. 
While here it encounters many things which check it in its outfold- 
ings ; hereafter it will be free from such bafflements, be enabled to 
achieve more rapid advancements, and more brilliant. Here it is 
tempted to sin ; there it will not be, for the centre of temptations is 
in the material nature, and that is to be discarded. When temptation 
ceases sin must cease. 

The future life may be represented as an inclined plane, on 
whose radiant surface all souls shall ascend farther and farther as 
eternity rolls along its immense cycles. Over it will hang the holy, 
genial, inspiring presence of God; across it float winds freighted with 
heaven’s aromas; into its meandering avenues fall the light of the In¬ 
finite Love, and out of its crystal fountains gush waters of rarest 
sweetness. No tear of grief shall fall on its fadeless flowers, no 
world of unkindness disturb its placid air, no sighs of suffering 
blend with its seraphic music, and no discord sweep in the midst of 
its blessed harmonies. 



If I may stand before His throne, 

And look upon His face, 

What shall I care that oft, alone, 

Like Him, I ran my race. 

Safe on thy ever blissful plains, 

My heart’s own treasure gathered there; 
Farewell, forever, sins and pains, 
Farewell,, bereavement, sorrow, care! 


C. Huntington. 







THE REV. F. W. FARRAR, D. D. 

(CANON OF WESTMINISTER.) 


\ 


v 

t 

i7 ^ 




i 

































































































HANNAH MORE. 



HIS noble woman, before her death, said:—“ It pleases God 
to afflict me, not for His pleasure, but to do me good, to 
make me humble and thankful. Lord, I believe; I do 
seT' believe with all the power of my weak sinful heart! Lord 
<•!? Jesus, look down upon me from Thy holy habitation, strengthen 
my faith, and quicken me in my preparation! Support me in that 
try' jg hour when I most need it! It is a glorious thing to die! y 
When one talked to her of her good deeds, she said, 4 Talk not so 
vainly—I utterly cast them from me, and fall low at the foot of the 
cross-’ ” 


Since the dear hour that, brought me to thy foot, 
And cut up all my follies by the root, 

I never trusted in an arm but thine; 

Nor hoped but in thy righteousness Divine, 

My prayers and alms, imperfect and defiled, 
Were but the feeble efforts of a child; 

Howe’er perform’d, this was their brightest part, 
That they were offerings of a thankful heart; 

I cast them at thy feet, my only plea 
Is, what it was,—dependence upon thee; 

While struggling in the vale ot griefs below, 
This never failed, nor shall it fail me now.” 


223 


COWPER. 





















224 


THE HOME BEYOND 


HARRIET NEWELL. 



HE husband of Harriet Newell says:—“When I told her 
that she could not live through the day, she replied, i O 
^joyful news! I long to depart.’ Some time after, I asked 
her, ‘How does death appear to you now?’ She replied, 
‘ Glorious; truly welcome.’ During Sabbath night she seemed to 
be a little wandermg; but the next morning she had her 
recollection perfectly. As I stood by her, I asked her if she knew 
me. At first she made no answer. I said to her again, ‘ My dear 
Harriet, do you not know who I am ? ’ 

“ ‘My dear Mr. Newell, my husband,’ was her reply; but in broken 
accents, and a voice faltering in death.” 


“Was this then death? 

O soft, yet sudden change, what shall I call thee? 

No more—no more thy name be death. And thou, 
Corruption’s dreaded power, how changed to joy? 

Sleep, then, companion of my first existence, 

Seed sown by God to ripen for the harvest.” 

Bulmer’s Messiah. 


REV. DAVID SIMPSON. 


* S the strength of the author of “ A Plea for Religion and the 
Sacred Writings” declined apace, he was soon unfit to see 
1 any of his friends but his immediate attendants, who had 
./■; }p now given up all hope of his recovery. The violence of the 
' J fever acting on his enfeebled system, had left only the ruins of 
a noble mind. He spoke much of the glories of heaven, and the 
happiness of separate spirits; of their robes of righteousness, 
and their palms of victory; then, breathing his ardent wishes for the 
happiness of all who were present, he added, “ Pardon, peace, and 
everlasting felicity, are desirable things.” 

“ The soul, reposing on assured relief, 

Feels herself happy amidst all her grief; 

Forgets her labor as she toils along, 

Weeps tears of joy, and bursts into a song.” 










OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
HENRY MARTYN. 


225 



EN days before his death, in Persia, he said, “ 0 when shall 
time give place to eternity! When shall appear that new 
heaven and new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness! 
W There—there shall in no wise enter in anything that defileth: 
none of that wickedness that has made men worse than wild 
beasts—none of those corruptions that add still more to the 
miseries of mortality, shall be seen or heard of any more.” 


“ See the guardian angels nigh 
Wait to waft my soul on high! 

See the golden gates display’d! 

See the crown to grace my head! 
See a flood of sacred light, 

Which shall yield no more to night! 
Transitory world, farewell! 

Jesus calls with him to dwell.” 


RICHARD BAXTER. 


He said to a friend the day before he died, “I have pain, there is 
no arguing against sense; but I have peace, I have peace.” His friend 
replied, “You are now approaching your long desired home.” He 
answered, “I believe, I believe.” As he approached near his end, 
when asked how he did, his usual reply was, “Almost well.” And 
when, in his own apprehension, death was nearest, his joy was most 
remarkable. The long wished for hour at length arrived, and in his 
own expressive language, he became “entirely well.” 

“ Stronger by weakness, wiser men become 
As they draw near to their eternal home; 

Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, 

Who stand upon the threshold of the new.” 



Waller. 






226 


THE HOME BEYOND 


BEY. WILBUB FISK, D. D. 



T one time, after a fruitless effort to lie down, he said:—“I 
have always thought I should have a lingering sickness, but 
an easy death. I would like to have my bed my dying 
JjiJp pillow, but my Savior died on the cross.” He then repeated the 
ji£ stanza, commencing, 

“How bitter that cup,” 


and ending, 

“ Did Jesus thus suffer, and shall I repine? 

At another time, when nature seemed exhausted and life was 
fast ebbing out, as he was lifted from the bed to his chair, he sighed 
forth, “From the chair to the throne!” A friend said: 

“You suffer a great deal of distress, sir, from fatigue and 
exhaustion; but it must be over soon, and how sweet is rest to a 
weary man! There is a place ‘where the wicked cease from 
troubling, and the weary are at rest.’ ” He responded distinctly, 
“Bless God for that!” When he was still further sunk into coma, 
the same friend coming into the room, said, “ I have come to see you 
again, sir; do you know me?” Pressing his hand, he said in a 
whisper, “Yes; glorious hope!” After this, when Mrs. Fisk took 
his hand and inquired if he knew her, he returned the pressure, 
saying, “Yes, love; yes.” 

“ Like a shadow thrown 
Softly and lightly from a passing cloud, 

Death fell upon him.” 

Wordsworth. 

LOBD BACON. 


Lord Bacon breathed this prayer before death:—“ Thy creatures, 
O Lord, have been my books, but thy holy Scriptures much more. I 
have sought Thee in the courts, fields, and gardens; but I have found 
Thee, O God, in thy sanctuary, thy temples.” 

“ O what new life I feel! 

Being of beings, how I rise! Not one, 

A thousand steps J rise! And yet I feel 
Advancing still in glory—I shall soar 
Above these thousand steps. Near and more near 
(Nor in his works alone, these beauteous worlds) 

I shall behold the Eternal face to face.” 


Bulmer’s Messiah. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
REV. RICHARD WATSON. 


227 


MP HERE is no rest or satisfaction for tlie soul but in God— 
my God. I am permitted to call him my God. O God, 
thou art my God, early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth 
>r thee, my flesh longeth for thee, in a dry and thirsty land 
here no water is.” 

“At another time, in a state of deep feeling, he said, 
4 When shall my soul leave this tenement of clay, to join in the wide 
expanse of the skies, and rise to nobler joys and to see God V In a 
happy state of mind he burst forth but a short time before he was 
deprived of the power of connected speech, and exclaimed, ‘ We shall 
see strange sights to-day; not different, however, from what we 
might realize by faith; but it is not the glitter and glare, not the 
topaz and diamond; no, it is God I want to see; He is all and in 
all.’ ” 

“ The festal morn, my God, is come, 

That calls me to thy hallow’d dome.” 

ZwiNGER. 



SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 


In Rutherford’s last moments he said to the ministers around 
him, “There is none like Christ. O, dear brethren, pray for Christ, 
preach for Christ, do all for Christ; feed the flock of God. And 
O, beware of men-pleasing.” Having recovered from a fainting 
fit, he said, “I feel, I feel, I believe, I joy, I rejoice, I feed on 
manna; my eyes shall see my Redeemer, and I shall be ever with 
him. And what would you more ? I have been a sinful man; but 
I stand at the best pass that ever a man did. Christ is mine and 
I am his. Glory, glory to my Creator and Redeemer forever. Glory 
shines in Immanuel’s land. O for arms to embrace him! O fo~ 
a well-tuned harp!” 

“ More I would ask, but all my words are faint, 

Celestial Love, what eloquence can paint? 

No more by mortal words can be express’d; 

But vast eternity shall tell the rest.” 


Mrs. Rowe. 





228 


THE HOME BEYOND 


MR. M’LAREN, OF EDINBURGH. 


When Mr. M’Laren was dying, Mr. Gustart his associate pas¬ 
tor, paid him a visit, and inquired of him, “What are you now 
doing, my brother ?” The strong and earnest response of the 
dying minister was, “I’ll tell you what I am doing, brother; I 
am gathering together all my prayers, all my sermons, all my 
good deeds, all my ill deeds; and I am going to throw them all 
overboard, and swim to glory on the single plank of free grace.” 

“ This—only this subdues the fear of death; 

And what is this?—Survey the wondrous cure; 

And at each step, let higher wonder rise! 

Pardon for infinite offence! * * * 

A pardon bought with blood!—with blood divine!” 

Young. 


KEY. S. R. BANGS. 


He looked out at the window: “The sun,” said he, “is setting, 
mine is rising.” Then, with a look of heavenly delight, he gazed 
upon his hands, where the blood was already ceasing to circulate. “I 
go from this bed to a crown,” cried he, with his right arm pointing 
upward; “farewell;” laid his hands upon his breast, gasped and 
expired 

“ Whence this brave bound o’er limits fixed to man? 

His God sustains him in his final hour! 

We gaze; we weep; mix tears of grief and joy! 

Amazement strikes! devotion bursts to flame! 

Christians adore! and infidels believe!” 

Your^ 


“And O, when I have safely pass’d 
Through every conflict but the last, 

Still, still unchanging, watch beside 
My bed of death, for Thou hast died.” 

Grant. 


“ A path that must be trod, 
If man would ever pass to God.” 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

JOHN HOWARD. 


229 



LITTLE before the last time of John Howard’s leaving 
Hal 1 ! England, when a friend expressed his concern at parting 


with him, from an apprehension that they should never 


wf* meet again he cheerfully replied: “We shall soon meet in 
•»heaven;” and as he rather expected to die of the plague in 
Egypt, he added: “The way to heaven from Grand Cairo is 
as near as from London.” He said he was perfectly easy as to 
the event, and made use of the words of Father Paul, who when 
his physicians told him he had not long to live, said, “It is well; 
whatever pleases God pleases me.” 


“ Howard, thy task is done, thy Master calls, 

And summons thee from Cherson’s distant walls;— 
‘Come, well-approved, my faithful servant come. 
My minister of good, I’ve sped the way, 

And shot through dungeon glooms a leading ray; 
I’ve led thee on through wondering climes, 

To combat human woes and human crimes; 

But ‘tis enough,—thy great commission’s o’er; 

I prove thy faith, thy love, thy zeal no more.’ ” 


Aiken. 



“ If in that name no deathless spirit dwell, 

If that faint murmur be the last farewell, 

If faith unite the faithful but to part, 

Why is their memory sacred to the heart?” 

Campbell. 



“ Time is eternity; 


Pregnant with all eternity can give, 

Pregnant with all that makes archangels smile,” 


Young. 



“ That sov’reign Plant, whose scions shoot 
With healing virtue, and immortal fruit,— 

The Tree of Life, beside the stream that laves 
The fields of Paradise with gladdening waves.” 










t 


\ 


\ 



STRASBURG CATHEDRAL. 
































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 

VARIOUS VIEWS OF FUTURE HAPPINESS. 


231 


W t hen the ancients applied the term “ god” to a human soul 
departed from the body, it was not used as the moderns prevailingly 
employ that word. It expressed a great deal less with them than 
with us. It merely meant to affirm similarity of essence, qualities 
and residence, but by no means equal dignity and power of attributes 
between the one and the other. It meant that the soul had gone to 
the heavenly habitation of the gods and was thenceforth a participant 
in the heavenly life. 

Heraclitus was accustomed to say, “Men are mortal gods; gods 
are immortal men,” Macrobius says, “ The soul is not only immor¬ 
tal, but a god.” And Cicero declares, “The soul of man is a Divine 
thing,—as Euripides dares to say, a god.” Milton uses language 
precisely parallel, speaking of those who are “unmindful of the 
crown true Virtue gives her servants, after their mortal change, 
among the enthroned gods on sainted seats.” Theophilus, Bishop of 
Antioch in the second century, says that “ to become a god means to 
ascend into heaven.” 

Virgil, celebrating the death of some person under the fictitious 
name of Daphnis, exclaims, “ Robed in white, he admires the strange 
court of heaven, and sees the clouds and the stars beneath his feet. 
He is a god now.” Porphyry ascribes to Pythagoras the declaration 
that the souls of departed men are gathered in the zodiac. Plato 
earnestly describes a region of brightness and unfading realities 
above this lower world, among the stars, where the gods live, and 
whither, he says, the virtuous and wise may ascend, while the corrupt 
and ignorant must sink into the Tartarean realm. 

The Emperor Julian says, in his Letter on the Duties of a 
Priest, “ God will raise from darkness and Tartarus the souls of all 
of us who worship him sincerely: to the pious, instead of Tartarus he 
promises Olympus.” “It is lawful,” writes Plato, “ only for the true 
lover of wisdom to pass into the rank of gods. 

In a tragedy of Euripides the following passage occurs, 
addressed to the bereaved Admetus:—“ Let not the tomb of thy wife 
be looked on as the mound of the ordinary dead. Some wayfarer, as 







232 


THE HOME BEYOND 


lie treads the sloping road, shall say, ‘ This woman once died for her 
husband; but now she is a saint in heaven.’ ” W. R. Alger. 


Enoch was probably a prophet authorized to announce the real¬ 
ity of another life after this; and he might be removed into it without 
dying, as an evidence of the truth of his doctrine. 

Dr. Priestly. 

A similitude drawn from the resurrection, to foreshadow the 
restoration of the people of Israel, would never have been employed 
unless the resurrection itself were believed to be a fact of future 
occurrence; for no one thinks of confirming what is uncertain by 
what has no existence. Jerome. 



MONEY CANNOT BUY HEAVEN. 


Let us recognize the fact, however, that while there is a lawful 
and profitable use of it, money cannot satisfy a man’s soul. It can¬ 
not pay our fare across the Jordan of death. It cannot unlock the 
gate of heaven. Salvation by Christ is the only salvation. Treasures 
in heaven are the only incorruptible treasures. However fine your 
apparel, the winds of death will flutter it like rags. A homespun and 
threadbare coat has sometimes been the shadow of coming robes 
made white by the blood of the Lamb. Oh, my dear hearers, what¬ 
ever you lose, though your house go, though all your earthly 
possessions go—may God Almighty, through the blood of the ever¬ 
lasting covenant, save all your souls! “ What is a man profited if he 
shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? ” 

Talmage. 

MANY MANSIONS. 


Why has God ‘‘ broken up the solid material of the universe 
into innumerable little globes, and swung each of them into the 
centre of an impassable solitude of space,” unless it be to train up in 
the various spheres separate households for final union as a single 
diversified family in the boundless spiritual world ? 


Isaac Taylor. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
JOY IN HEAVEN. 


233 


D. L. MOODY. 


SERE is joy in heaven, we are told, over the conversions 
that take place on earth. In the 15th chapter of Lnke 
and the 7th verse we read: “I say unto you that likewise 
joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more 
than over ninety-and-nine just persons which need no re¬ 
pentance/ J If there was going to be an election for Presi¬ 
dent of the United States, there would be tremendous excitement— 
a great commotion. There is probably not a paper from Maine to 
California that would not have something on nearly every page about 
the candidate : the whole country would be excited ; but 1 doubt if 
it would be noticed in heaven ; I doubt if they would take any note 
of it at all, If Queen Victoria should leave her throne, there would be 
great excitement throughout the nations of the earth; the whole 
world would be interested in the event; it would be telegraphed 
around the world; but it would probably be overlooked 
altogether in heaven. Yet if one little boy or one little 
girl, one man or one woman should repent of their sins, this day and 
hour that would be noticed in heaven. They look at things differently 
up there ; things that look very large to us, look very small in heaven ; 
and things that seem very small to us down here, may be very great 
up yonder. Think of it! By an act of our own, we may cause joy 
in heaven. The thought seems almost too wonderful to take in. To 
think that the poorest sinner on earth, by an act of his own, can 
send a thrill of joy through the hosts of heaven ! 

The Bible says: “There is joy in the presence of the angels,” not 
that the angels rejoice, but it is “ in the presence ” of angels. I have 
studied over that a great deal, and often wondered what it meant. 

“ Joy in the presence of the angels ?” Now, it is speculation ; it 
may be true, or it may not; but perhaps the friends who have left 
the shores of time—they who have gone within the fold—may be 
looking down upon us ; and when they see one they prayed for while 
on earth repenting and turning to God, it sends a thrill of joy to 
their very hearts. Even now, some mother who has gone up there 





234 


THE HOME BEYOND 


may be looking down upon a son or daughter, and if that child should 
say : “I will meet that mother of mine ; I will repent ; yes, I am 
going to join you, mother,” the news, with the speed of a sunbeam 
reaches heaven, and that mother may then rejoice, as we read, “ In the 
presence of the angels.” 

-- 

HEAVEN AND ETERNAL LIFE. 


KEY. WM. MORLEY PUNSHON D. D. 



^ HAT word, life . is always music—that word, next to the 
word “God in Christ,” has in it the deepest meaning in the 
^ world. Let us cross the flood where that life especially is, 
whose path the Savior is to show, the mansions which he 
has gene to prepare. Jesus is called, “The true God and 
eternal life.” What is this eternal life, w 7 hich is held before 
the believer’s eye, and chartered as his privilege ? 

This life is conscious ; death cannot for one moment paralyze the 
soul. Paul said it was “far better to depart.” He knew the mo¬ 
ment he was released from mortality he should be with Christ 
There is no moment’s interval of slumber for the soul—we do not 
cease to be. We only change the conditions of our being. There is 
no human soul, which from the day of Adam until now has ever 
dwelt in clay; that is, not alive to-day! It is a conscious world into 
which we are passing. 

Again; heaven is not a solitude. It is a peopled city—where 
there are no strangers, no homeless, no poor, where one does not pass 
'another in the street without greeting, where no one is envious of 
another’s superior minstrelsy or of another’s more brilliant crown. 
They are not only with the Savior, but with the “ General Assembly,” 
and with “ the spirits of the just made perfectall affections are 
pure, all enjoy conscious recognition, all abide in perpetual recogni¬ 
tion, abide in perpetual reunion, in a home without a discord, without 
an illness, without a grave. 

Take comfort, then ; those from whom you have parted or whom 








OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 235 

you shall have soon to separate, shall be your companions again, rec¬ 
ognized as of old, and loved with a purer love. 

The resurrection and the life—what heart is not thrilled with the 
preciousness of the promise—who does not feel more grateful to the 
Redeemer, who brings him life ? Enjoyed recompense, recovered 
friends—there for ever and Jesus with us there I 

—^<^)°[>^— 

NEW POWERS IN HEAVEN. 

Christ’s presence with His saints constitutes a pledge that their 
powers will be adopted to their new condition, and that the loftiest 
sources of enjoyment will be opened for their participation. These 
bodily and mental capacities with which man was originally endowed 
by God, were grievously impaired through the entrance of sin into 
the world. But in that blessed world, the spirit will be made capa¬ 
ble of wondrous discoveries as to the works and ways of God, of en¬ 
raptured contemplation on the plan of Providence, and out of the 
riches of His goodness, and the boundless treasures of His love, 
will have every desire satisfied, and will have fresh sources of delight 
continually abounding. How decided and full must the happiness 
of the Saint be, when he has taken possession of the kingdom pre¬ 
pared for him from the beginning of the world, wheji he “ shall be 
for ever with the Lord.” 

Rev. Andrew R. Bonar, D. D. 
—— 

MARTYRS IN HEAVEN. 


REV. T. DEWITT TALMAGE. 



( 

'ERE pass the regiment of Christian martyrs. They en¬ 
dured all things for Christ. They were hounded; they 
were sawn asunder; they were hurled out of life. Here 
come the eighteen thousand Scotch Covenanters who per¬ 
ished in one persecution. Escaped from the clutches of 
Claverhouse, and bloody McKenzie, and the horrors of the 
Grass Market, they ride in the great battalion of Scotch martyrs. 







236 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Hugh McKail, and James Renwick, and John Knox, and others 
whose words are a battle-shout for the church militant—men of high 
cheek bones, and strong arms, and concentrated spirits. Grey friars 
church-yard took some of their bodies, but heaven took all their 
souls. They went on weary feet through the glens of Scotland in 
times of persecution, and crawled up the crags on their hands and 
knees; but now follow the Christ for whom they fought and bled, on 
white horses of triumph. Ride on ye conquerors ! Victors of Dun- 
ottar Castle, and Bass Rock: and Rutherglen ! Ride on ! 

Here comes the Regiment of English Martyrs. Queen Mary 
against King Jesus made an even fight. The twenty thousand 
chariots of God coming down the steep of heaven will ride over any 
foe. Queen Mary thought that by sword and fire she had driven 
Protestants down, but she only drove them up. Here they pass: 
Bishop Hooper, and Rogers, Prebendary of St. Paul’s; and Arch¬ 
bishop Cramer, who got his courage back in time to save his soul; 
and Anne Askew, who, at twenty-five years of age, rather than for¬ 
sake her God, submitted first to the rack without a groan, and then 
went with bones so dislocated she must be carried on a chair to the 
stake, her last words rising through the flames being a prayer for her 
murderers. O cavalcade of men and women, whom God snatched up 
from the iron fingers of torture into eternal life! Ride on, thou 
glorious regiment of English martyrs! 

Look at this advancing host of a hundred thousand. Who are 
they? Look upon the flag, and upon their uniform, and tell us. 
They are the Protestants who fell on St, Bartholomew’s Day in Paris, 
in Lyons, in Orleans, in Bordeaux, while the king looked out of the 
window and cried, “Kill! Kill!” Oh, what a night, followed by what 
a day! Who would think that these on w T hite horses were tossed out 
of windows, and manacled, and torn, aud dragged, and slain, until 
it seemed that the cause of God had perished, and cities were illumi¬ 
nated with infernal joy, and the cannon of St. Angelo thundered the 
triumph of hell! Their gashed and bespattered bodies were thrown 
into the Seine, but their souls went up out of a nation’s shriek into 
the light of God; and now they pass along the boulevards of heaven 
“ Soldier of God, well done! 

Rest be thy loved employ; 

And while eternal ages run, 

Rest in thy Master’s joy.” 

Ride on ye, mounted troops of St. Bartholomew’s Day! 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

NO NIGHT IN HEAVEN. 


237 


REV. R. W. CLARK, D. D. 


S it not a blessed announcement that there is a world in 
which “there shall be no night;”—no night of crime, 
deceit, treachery or temptation; no night of sorrow or 
ignorance; no night of pain, sickness or death. O, tell it 
to the penitent, who is struggling against the evil habit3 
and depraved inclinations of a wicked heart,—who, on 
life’s fierce battle-field, is striving to win an immortal crown! Tell 
it to the dying man, who, restless upon his couch, through long, 
wearisome nights, is trying to learn the lessons of submission, and 
faith, and moral discipline, which his sufferings are teaching,—who 
longs for light to break through the dark clouds that are gathering 
about him! Hasten with the tidings to the bereaved family, and 
assure them that there is a world where these griefs shall be lifted 
from their oppressed spirits, and their present afflictions, if rightly 
improved, shall work out of them “a far more exceeding and eternal 
weight of glory.” For where God is, there can be no night. Where 
bright, holy angels throng, there can be no sorrow. Where celestial 
music rolls through the galleries and arches of temples filled with the 
effulgence of the Deity, there can be no sighing. Where Jesus 
reigns in his majesty and glory, “ all tears shall be wiped away.” 

No night in heaven! Then no sad partings are experienced 
there;—no funeral processions move, no death-knell is heard, no 
graves are opened. Then no mysterious providences will there per¬ 
plex us, no dark calamities will shake our faith; but we shall walk 
the golden streets of the eternal city, surrounded with perpetual 
brightness, breathing an atmosphere of heavenly purity, and free to 
enter the palaces of our King or climb to heights over which no 
shadow ever passes. 









iSiiifeti# 


WMmmwmm 

msm 


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OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

WORSHIP IN HEAVEN. 


239 


REV. RICHARD WATSON. 


Part of the felicity of the saints in heaven shall consist in the 
worship of God. 

And who would wish it otherwise ? Could we find a man who 
would exclude from his idea of this place of blessedness, the eternal, 
ceaseless worship of his God, I would deny to him all claim to a 
single ennobling thought: that by itself would prove his total want of 
preparation for the kingdom of God. But it is not so; the taber¬ 
nacle of God is with men, and to that they shall bring the homage of 
their hearts, and the tribute of their praises. So in the tabernacle 
of old; the sin-offerings, the peace-offerings, the thank-offerings, 
were all brought there; and with a variety of instruments and voices 
the praises of God were there sung. There, especially, were sung 
the songs which the sweet psalmist received from the inspiring 
Spirit; songs, indeed, containing “thoughts that breathe and words 
that burn,” and which to our own day retain all their animation and 
power. It was this which made David say, “ A day in thy courts is 
better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house 
of my God, than dwell in the tents of -wickedness.” And, when 
distant from it, he envied even the birds which found shelter in the 
sanctuary, were covered by its shadow and cheered by its sounds. 
And have we not felt the inspiration of worship ourselves ? Wherever 
God is devoutely adored, feelings at once the strongest and the richest 
are called forth, from 

‘ The speechless awe which dares not move, 

And all the silent heaven of love,” 

to the thanksgivings which break from a heart overcharged with its 
grateful recollections. 

These are the feelings which are to be brightened and perfected 
in heaven. The worship there shall be ceaseless and eternal; and it 
is an interesting view of it, that it shall be all praise. No prayer 
shall be here, for there shall be no sense of -want; all is praise, for 
all is manifestation and light; all is praise, for all is triumph; all is 
praise, for all is blessedness and enjoyment. Whatever the feeling, 
praise, eternal praise, is the expression of it, from the breathing 




240 


THE HOME BEYOND 


whisper of adoring love which flits through the prostrate ranks of the 
redeemed, to the full chorus of praise, the high, the universal shout 
of glory, and honor, and blessing, to him that sitteth upon the throne, 
and to the Lamb forever. 



THE SOUL’S POWER IN HEAVEN. 


REV. HORACE BUSHNELL, D. D. 



E exist here only in the small, that God may have us in a 
t state of flexibility, and bend or fashion us, at the best ad¬ 
vantage, to the model of his own great life and character. 
And most of us, therefore, have scarcely a conception of 
the exceeding weight of glory to be comprehended in our 


If we take, for example, the faculty of memory, 


how very obvious is it that, as we pass eternally on, we shall have 
more and more to remember, and finally shall have gathered more in¬ 


to this great storehouse of the soul than is now contained in all the 


libraries of the world. And there is not one of our faculties that has 
not, in its volume, a similar power of expansion. Indeed, if it were 
not so, the memory would finally overflow and drown all our other 
faculties, and the spirits, instead of being powers, would virtually 
cease to be anything more than registers of the past. 

But we are obliged to take our conclusion by inference. We 
can see for ourselves that the associations of the mind, which are a 
great part of its riches, must be increasing in number and variety for¬ 
ever, stimulating thought by multiplying its suggestives, and beauti¬ 
fying thought by weaving into it the colors of sentiment endlessly 
varied. 

The imagination is gathering in its images and kindling its 
eternal fires in the same manner. Having passed through many trains 
of worlds, mixing with scenes, societies, orders of intelligence and 
powers of beatitude—just that which made the apostle in Patmos 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


241 


into a poet by the visions of a single day—it is impossible that every 
sonl should not finally become filled with a glorious and powerful 
imagery, and be waked to a wonderfully creative energy. 

By the supposition it is another incident of this power of end¬ 
less life, that, passing down the eternal galleries of fact and event, it 
must be forever having new cognitions and accumulating new premises. 
By its own contacts it will, at some future time, have touched even 
whole worlds and felt them through, and made promises of all there 
is in them. It will know God by experiences correspondingly en¬ 
larged, and itself by a consciousness correspondingly illuminated, 
Having gathered in, at last, such worlds of premises, it is difficult for 
us now to conceive the vigor into which a soul may come, or the vol¬ 
ume it may exhibit, the wonderful depth and scope of its judgments, 
its rapidity and certainty, and the vastness of its generalizations. 
It passes over more and more, and that necessarily, from the condi¬ 
tion of a creature gathering up premises, into the condition of God, 
creating out of premises; for if it is not actually set to the creation 
of worlds, its very thoughts will be a discoursing in world-problems 
and theories equally vast in their complications. 

In the same manner, the executive energy of the will, the vol¬ 
ume of the benevolent affections, and all the active powers, will be 
showing, more and more impressively, what is to be a power of end¬ 
less life. They that have been swift in doing God’s will and fulfill¬ 
ing his mighty errands, will acquire a marvellous address and energy 
in the use of their powers. They that have taken worlds into their 
love will have a love correspondingly capacious, whereupon also it 
will be seen that their will is settled in firmness and raised in majesty 
according to the vastness of impulse there is in the love behind it. 
They that have great thoughts, too, will be able to manage great 
causes, and they that are lubricated eternally in the joys that feed 
their activity will never tire. What force, then, must be finally de¬ 
veloped in what now appears to be the tenuous and fickle impulse, 
and the merely frictional activity of a human soul ? 

On this subject the Scriptures indulge in no declamation, but 
only speak in hints, and start us off by questions, well understanding 
that the utmost they can do is to waken in us the sense of a future 
scale of being unimaginable, and beyond the compass of our definite 
thought. Here they drive us out in the almost cold mathematical 


242 


THE HOME BEYOND 


question, “ What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and 
lose his own soul ?” Here they show us, in John’s vision, Moses and 
Elijah, as angels, suggesting our future classification among angels, 
which are sometimes called chariots of God, to indicate their excel¬ 
ling strength and swiftness in careering through his empire to do his 
will. Here they speak of powers unimaginable as regards the vol¬ 
ume of their personality, calling them dominions, thrones, principal¬ 
ities, powers, and appear to set us on a footing with these dim majes¬ 
ties. Here they notify us that it doth not yet appear what we shall 
be. Here they call us sons of God. Here they bolt upon us, but “I 
said, Ye are gods;” as if meaning to waken us by a shock! In these 
and all ways possible, they contrive to start some better perception 
in us of ourselves, and of the immense significance of the soul; for¬ 
bidding us always to be the dull mediocrities into which, under the 
stupor of our unbelief, we are commonly so ready to subside. Oh, 
if we could tear aside the veil, and see for but one hour what it sig¬ 
nifies to be a soul in the power of an endless life, what a revelation 
would it be! 


THE NEW SONG. 


Yes, we will have a new song. It is the song of Moses and the 
Lamb. I don’t know just who wrote it or how, but it will be a 
glorious song. 1 suppose the singing we have here on earth will be 
nothing compared with the songs of that upper world. Do you 
know the principal thing we are told we are going to do in heaven is 
singing, and that is why men ought to sing down here. We ought to 
begin to sing here so that it won’t come strange when we get to 
heaven. I pity the professed Christian who has not a song in his 
heart—who never feels like singing. It seems to me if we are truly 
children of God, we will want to sing about it. And so, when we 
get there, we can’t help shouting out the loud hallelujahs of heavea 

H. L. Moody. 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


243 


NO REGRET IN HEAVEN. 


BISHOP L. L. HAMLINE. 


In heaven there will be no regret for the past any more than for 
the present. Now we review our lives with disapprobation which 
uses grief. However we may disapprove, in heaven there can be 
no grief. 

Our past sorrows will not seem too many or too severe. We 
shall feel that we never suffered a pang too much. Whether it arose 
from repentance or from providence, whether it was seated in the 
body or in the soul, we shall feel that every pang came in the right 
form, at the right time, and in the right measure; that it was neither 
too light nor too heavy, too early nor too late. Every sigh, and tear, 
and groan, every deprivation and every persecution, will then be rec¬ 
ollected with inconceivable gratification, and will provoke our com¬ 
placency and gratitude. 

Now, if our living is taken away or our honor is tarnished, if 
our health is impaired, or our friends fade and die. we are ready to 
exclaim against Providence, or to wither in silent despair. But the 
saints will remember and review such afflictions with unspeakable 
satisfaction. 

In that blessed world the sins of this life will inflict-upon the 
soul neither remorse nor repentance. Here gracious hearts are filled 
with godly sorrow at the remembrance of transgression and the re¬ 
mains of carnal appetite. But the hearts of the glorified will not 
lament. The just made perfect will feel no* repentance, and the sanc¬ 
tified and spotless will have no carnal tempers. Now sin provokes in 
the believers self-reproach and indignation. Such cannot forgive 
themselves, even when God forgives them. They abhor themselves 
like Job, and repent as in sack-cloth. Their penitence is not distrust¬ 
ful and death-working, like the sinner’s, but still it is penitence; and 
they are unwilling to part from it all the days of their life. The 
happiest hours of the best Christians are softened by this penitence. 
They may have ascended the mount of regeneration, the mount of 
faith, the mount of love; but on the loftiest summit they shall find 
no soil barren of repentance, no region so clear and lofty as never to 
see a cloud, or feel the refreshing moisture of its gently-falling 
showers. Our earthly graces are moral buds and blossoms. They 




244 


THE HOME BEYOND 


are most beautiful and fragrant when watered with drops of gener¬ 
ous sorrow. When these buds of grace become the ripened fruits of 
glory, they can endure perpetual sunshine. There they will be 
garnered in a tearless heaven. 

Not even sin in its recollections will afflict the sainted spirit. It 
had a sting on earth which cannot reach to heaven. The saved will 
not love sin. They will abhor it most intensely, but it will have no 
power to inflict pain or unpleasant regret on the redeemed and glori¬ 
fied. Sin purged away by the blood of the Lamb will be as though 
it had not been. The restitution of the soul to its original innocence 
and purity will be complete. Consider how much rapture must arise 
from perfect self-complacency! 



Rest, on the bosom of thy God ; young spirit, rest thee now— 
None of the sorrows here portrayed, shall fall upon thy brow! 
The vital cup in part, your lips had quaffed, 

But, with it sickened, you repelled the draught— 
Opposed; then turning from the blaze of day, 

You gently breathed your infant soul away. 

Oh, mourn not for the dead, in youth who passed away, 

Ere peace and joy and bliss have fled, and sin has brought decay. 
Better in youth to die, life being fair and bright, 

Than when the soul has lost its truth, in age and sorrow’s night 
Then shed not the tear of grief upon the sable bier, 

Her wearied spirit finds a rest, in a more blissful sphere. 



“ Our home in heaven! Oh, the glorious home, 

And the spirit joined with the bride, says, ‘Come.* 
Gome, seek His face, and your sins forgiven, 

And rejoice in hope of your home in heaven.” 


I love to think of heaven, it seems not far away, 

Its crystal streams refresh me as I near the closing day; 

Its balmy winds are wafted from the heavenly hills above. 
And they fold me in an atmosphere of purity and love.” 



OB VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE HEAVENLY COUNTRY. 


O tell me no more 
Of this world’s vain store; 

The time for these trifles with me now is o’er; 

A country I’ve found 
Where true joys abound; 

To dwell I’m determined on that happy ground. 

The souls that believe, 

In paradise live; 

And me in that number will Jesus receive. 

My soul, don’t delay, 

He calls thee away, 

Rise, follow thy Saviour, and bless the glad day. 

No mortal doth know 
What He can bestow, 

What light, strength, and comfort do after Him go. 
So onward I move, 

And, but Christ above, 

None guesses how wondrous the journey will prove. 

Great spoils I shall win 
From death, hell, and sin; 

’Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within. 
Perhaps for His name, 

Poor dust as I am, 

Some works I shall finish with glad loving aim. 

I still (which is best) 

Shall in His dear breast, 

As at the beginning, find pardon and rest. 

And when I’m to die, 

Receive me, I’ll cry, 

For Jesus has loved me, I cannot tell why. 

But this I do find, 

We two are so joined, 

He’ll not live in glory and leave me behind. 

Lo! this is the race 

I’m running through grace, 

Henceforth till admitted to see my Lord’s face. 

And now I’m in care 
My neighbors may share 

Those blessings: to seek them will none of you dare? 
In bondage, oh why, 

And death will you lie, 

When one here assures you free grace is so nigh? 




246 


THE HOME BEYOND 
SCKIPTUKE NAMES OF HEAVEN. 


REV. J. E. EDMONSON, A. M. 


EAVEN is called a house ; which implies the residence of a 
family, sweetly united by the ties of interest and pure be¬ 
nevolence. Jesus calls it his “Father’s house,” because 
his Father dwells there with his family, ever exercising his 
paternal love and watchful care ; and every individual in 
the family is treated by his heavenly Father as a beloved 
child. This house was built by God, and is inconceivably glorious ; 
and the family in this house is lovely and happy beyond description. 
It is a house which will never decay; and a family that will never be 
separated; a house that cannot be shaken; and a family that cannot 
be moved. Part of the family has already arrived there; and the 
other part will soon arrive. 

Heaven is called a city , on account of its security, high privil¬ 
eges, grandeur, and stability. Abraham, who is called the friend of 
God, looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and 
maker is God; and it may be said of all good men, “God is not 
ashamed to be called their God; for he hath prepared for them a 
city.” In this world they are at a considerable distance from that 
city; but they are on their journey home; and even now they are 
citizens of the New Jerusalem above. 

Here they dwell in tents, and wander up and down; but the 
Lord leads them “by the right way,” that they may “ go to a city of 
habitation.” There they will be permanently settled, and enjoy all 
the privileges of free citizens; nor can they ever be removed by the 
cross events of this ever-changing world; for all things there are 
absolutely fixed and unalterable. “Here have we no & continuing 
city, but we seek one to come,” which will abide forever. That is 
the city of the living God. It was built by him; it is governed by 
him; and it is placed under his immediate protection. Other cities 
perish; but that is eternal: in other cities death reigns; but the citi¬ 
zens of heaven are immortal. 

In allusion to the division of Canaan by lot, and to the 
settlement of Israel in the land of promise, heaven is called an inker - 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


247 


itance ; and it may be said to every holy person in reference to the 
eternal world, as it was said to Daniel, “ Thou shalt rest, and stand 
in thy lot at the end of thy days.” There is an evident allusion to 
the same thing in the following passage: “Blessed be the God and 
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant 
mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection 
of Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible, and unde¬ 
filed, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you.” 

Heaven is called the holiest , on account of its transcendent 
purity, and in allusion to the holy of holies in the temple at Jerusa 
lem. There the Lord dwelt between the cherubim; there was his 
mercy-seat; and from thence he communed with his people. Psa. 
xcix, 1 ; Exod xxv, 22. This was typical of the heavenly world, to 
which we have now access, in the high duties of prayer and praise ; 
for we have “boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, 
by a new and living way which he hath consecrated for us, through 
the veil, that is to say, his flesh,” Heb. x, 19, 20. And that must be 
the holiest place in the universe, where God appears in his transcend¬ 
ent purity, and where the holiest spirits, of every rank and order, 
appear in his immediate presence. 

The heavenly world, where holy spirits reside, is called a king¬ 
dom ; and the King, whose power is unlimited, is “ the Lord God 
omnipotent.” The subjects over whom he reigns are angels and 
saints ; and the law, by which he governs his kingdom, is his own 
all-perfect will. The universal prayer of the church militant is, 
“Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.” And in heaven they 
do the will of God in all things, with cheerfulness and with steady 
perseverance. 

Heaven is called a better country. It is better than IJr of the 
Chaldeans, or the land of promise, where Abraham dwelt as a stran¬ 
ger and pilgrim; and yet those countries were famous for the pro¬ 
duction of every comfort that man could desire as an inhabitant of 
this lower world. But Abraham and his pious companions looked 
forward to a better state of things in the world to come. They 
desired “ a better country, that is, a heavenly,” where they might 
enjoy the happiness of the eternal state. And if we carefully 
examine all the good things that are enjoyed, in the most highly fav¬ 
ored countries on earth, the enjoyments of heaven are far better than 


248 


THE HOME BEYOND 


those of any other. We should be thankful to God for every earthly 
blessing ; but we are allowed to hope for a better place and state in 
heaven. 

Here we are but “ strangers and pilgrims,” as were all our fore¬ 
fathers ; but there we shall have a permanent abode, and shall enjoy 
eternal blessedness. Here we may look out for a country where the 
air is salubrious, the land fruitful, the prospects delightful to the eye, 
the inhabitants peaceful, and the government wise and good; but 
heaven, where all excellences meet, and are found in the highest state 
of perfection, is better and more to be desired than the most lovely 
country on the face of the earth. 

The habitations where saints will reside in the heavenly world 
are called mansions. To comfort his disciples, when they were cast 
down by the prospect of his departure of the world, Jesus said, “ In 
my Father’s house are many mansions.” The word mansion gener- 
ally signifies a house ; but here are mansions.”. It is probable that 
our blessed Savior had an eye to the retired and peaceful apart¬ 
ments in the temple, where many pious persons dwelt, and were daily 
employed in the delightful exercises of devotion ; and that he 
pointed out by this emblem the employments and enjoyments of the 
upper world. But be this as it may, two ideas are included in this 
figurative representation : first, that the house of his Father is spaci¬ 
ous ; for there are many mansions : and, secondly, that there will 
be different degrees of glory ; some apartments being vastly superior 
to those of others. In the heavenly house, there is room for every 
soul of man. Many have already entered into it; “and yet there is 
room.” But as our Lord prepares the mansions, they will be exactly 
suited to our circumstances ; and those of the lowest order will be 
unspeakably glorious. And Jesus not only prepares a place for us, 
but he prepares us for the place. The work of grace in the soul, 
from its commencement to its highest state of perfection, is a pre¬ 
paration for the mansions of glory; and what an encouraging 
thought it is, that our glorious mansion in the sky, prepared by 
Jesus, “shall evermore endure !” 

Jerusalem was a great city,—a city where God was adored in 
his holy sanctuary; and in that view it may be considered as a type 
of heaven. Hence heaven is called the New Jerusalem. “ This city 
as Wesley says is wholly new, belonging not to this world, not to the 
millennium., but to eternity,” 


OH VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


249 


It will be a glorious city; illuminated by the glory of God and 
the Lamb ; made secure by a wall great and high ; twelve gates, with 
a guardian angel stationed at each gate ; four sides with open gates, 
to receive the worthy from every quarter of the world ; the names of 
the twelve tribes, of Israel written on the twelve gates, and of the 
twelve apostles o n the twelve foundations, to represent the union of 
the Jewish and the Christian churches ; built of the richest materials, 
and garnished with gold and precious stones, emblems of Eastern 
wealth and magnificence : its stones resembling those of Aaron’s 
breast-plate, to denote that the Urim and Thummim, the light and 
perfection of God’s oracle, are there ; but no temple there, because 
the whole city is the temple of God and the Lamb, 

“Our business this, our only aim. 

To find the New Jerusalem.” 

Another name given to heaven is paradise. This word literally 
signifies a garden of pleasure, and particularly the garden of Eden, 
where God placed the first man in a state of innocence; and the 
residence of the saints in heaven bears this name, in allusion to the 
happy place and state of our first parents before their sad apostacy. 
But our Savior went to the heavenly paradise, when he had given 
up the ghost and the cross ; and the penitent thief, who confessed 
him before men, was allowed to accompany him to that happy place : 
for our Lord said to him, “ To-day shalt thou be with me in para¬ 
dise.” There is the tree of life; and if we overcome our spiritual 
enemies, we shall eat of that tree, and live for ever. 

The heavenly paradise is a garden of pleasure and delight; a 
place and state of innocence and pure enjoyment. In allusion to 
the river which watered the garden of Eden, it is stated, that there 
is a pure river of the water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out 
of the throne of God and the Lamb ; a beautiful emblem of that 
pure and overflowing joy, and of all those hallowed pleasures, which 
ever flow to all in heaven from the divine throne. On either side of 
the river is the tree of life, which bears twelve manners of fruits, and 
yields her fruit every month ; denoting the rich variety, the perma¬ 
nency, and the fulness of heavenly pleasures. The leaves of that tree 
are for the healing of the nations, ever preserving them in a state of 
life, health, and vigor. 




/ 


THE COTTAGE IN WHICH MR. SPURGEON PREACHED HIS FIRST SERMON- 













































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


251 


NO DEATH IN HEAVEN. 


REV. J. EDMONSON A. M. 


If there be no death in heaven, it is a legitimate inference, that 
the inhabitants are ever blooming and ever young. Their life and 
vigor remain in full force, and cannot be subject to decays. There 
\s no helpess infancy in heaven ; no sick-beds; no palsied limbs ; no 
withering old age; no funerals; and no mourners going about the 
streets. When millions of ages have passed by, speaking after the 
manner of men, those immortals will be as fresh, as lively, and as 
strong as they were when they first entered the portals of the ce¬ 
lestial city. Their beauty will not fade, their Powers will not suffer 
any abatement, the eye, will not be dim, the ear will not be dull of 
hearing, the understanding will not be weakened, the memory will 
not fail, the affections will not become languid, nor will any quality, 
either of body or of mind, lose its perfection by the lapse of ages. 

There will be a complete deliverance from the fear of death in 
the regions of immortality. That has been painfully felt by dying 
mortals in the present life ; but it will never be felt again by the 
saints in glory to all eternity ; for how can they fear that which they 
know, assuredly, will never happen ? Here, we calculate years by the 
revolutions of the heavenly bodies; but there, duration will have no 
measure and no end. Here we behold the approach of old age in 
the feebleness of man, and in the wrinkles of his face ; but there we 
shall see no infirmities, or any indications of approaching dissolution. 

How absurd it would appear, to ascribe either old age, or any 
decay of beauty or strength, to the angels of light! and yet it must 
be allowed, that they have lived thousands of years in the heavenly 
world. And is it not equally absurd to apply old age, or a want of 
youthful beauty, to the saints in light? They are ever young, ever 
vigorous, and ever beautiful. The heavenly bodies, in the solar sys¬ 
tem, are fine emblems of the unfading beauty and glory of all the 
hosts above. The sun has shone, with undiminished splendor, for 
nearly six thousand years ; the moon and stars are as bright and as 
beautiful as they were when God created them ; and “ they that be 
wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that 
turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever.” 




252 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE TRUE HEAVEN. 


PAUL E. HAYNE. 


The bliss for which our spirits pine, 

That bliss we feel shall yet be given— 
Somehow, in some far realm divine, 

Some marvellous state we name a heaveiw 

Is not the bliss of languorous hours, 

A glory of calm measured range. 

But life which feeds our noblest powers 
On wonders of eternal change; 

A heaven of action freed from strife, 

With ampler ether for the scope 
Of an immeasurable life, 

And an unbaffled, boundless hope; 

A heaven wherein all discords cease, 
Self-torment, doubt, distress, turmoil, 

The core of whose majestic peace 
Is God-like power of tireless toil— 

Toil without tumult, strain, or jar, 

With grandest reach of range indued, 
Unchecked by even the farthest star 
That trembles through infinitude, 

In which to soar to higher heights 

Through widening ethers stretched abroad, 
Till in our onward, upward flights, 

We touch, at last, the feet of God! 

Time swallowed in Eternity! 

No future, evermore, no past, 

But one unbending Now to be 

A boundless circle round us cast. 








OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


253 


BEYOND THE GRAVE. 


BISHOP R. S. FOSTER, D. D. 


) my own mind, when I look in the direction of the future, 
one picture always rises—a picture of ravishing beauty. It 
essence, I believe, to be true. Its accidents will be more 
glorious than all that my imagination puts into it. It is 
that of a soul forever growing in knowledge, in love, in holy 
endeavor; that of a vast community of spirits, moving along 
a pathway of light, of ever-expanding excellence and glory; bright¬ 
ening as they ascend; becoming more and more like the unpicturable 
pattern of infinite perfection; loving with an ever-deepening love; 
glowing with an ever-increasing fervor; rejoicing in ever-advancing 
knowledge; growing in glory and power. They are all immortal. 
There are no failures or reverses to any of them. Ages fly away; 
they soar on with tireless wing. iEons and cycles advance toward 
them and retire behind them; still they soar, and shout, and unfold! 

I am one of that immortal host. Death cannot destroy me. I 
shall live when stars grow dim with age. The advancing and re¬ 
treating seons shall not fade my immortal youth. Thou, Gabriel, 
that standest near the throne, bright with a brightness that dazzles 
my earth-born vision, rich with the experience of uncounted ages, 
first-born of the sons of God, noblest of the archangelic retinue, far 
on I shall stand where thou standest now, rich with an equal ex¬ 
perience, great with an equal growth; thou wilt have passed on, and, 
from higher summits, wilt gaze back on a still more glorious pro- 



Bey ond the grave! As the vision rises how this side dwindles 
into nothing—a speck—a moment—and its glory and pomp shrink 
up into the trinkets and baubles that amuse an infant for a day. 
Only those things, in the glory of this light, which lay hold of immor¬ 
tality seem to have any value. The treasures that consume away or 
burn up with this perishing world are not treasures. Those only 
that we carry beyond are worth the saving. 








254 


THE HOME BEYOND 


EMPLOYMENTS OF HEAVEN. 


KEV. ASA MAHAN. 


HE reader will recollect certain expressions occurring in the 
parable of the talents, Matt, xxv., which have an important 
bearing on this point, and which are repeated so often and in 
such connections as authorize us to regard them as general 
principles in the government of God. When he who re¬ 
ceived five talents came and brought other five talents which 
he had gained besides them, his Lord said to him: “ Well done, thou 
good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over a few things, 

I will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou into the joy of 
thy Lord.” Thou hast been faithful here on a small scale of trust; 
I will give thee higher responsibilities and more abundant joy here¬ 
after. I will make thee ruler over many things. Thy trustworthi¬ 
ness shall be amply rewarded. A nobler sphere of labor and of 
honor is before thee. 

Compare with this another passage, Rev. iii. 21: “To him that 
overcometh will I grant to sit with me on my throne, even as I also 
overcame, and am sit down with my Father in his throne.” The 
Bible often alludes to the fact that Christ is gloriously exalted on 
account of his obedience unto death, and his voluntary humiliation 
for and in the work of human redemption. He fought a glorious 
fight on earth, and rose to his ineffable reward; he now promises the 
same reward to all who follow in his footsteps. Amazing, incredible 
though it be, he speaks of taking them to sit with himself on his own 
throne of glory! This must mean something; and though it does 
not yet appear in all points what it does mean, yet none can doubt 
that it speaks of glory and honor immortal, far too exalted for the 
comprehension of mortal thought. These are some of the intima¬ 
tions which Scripture gives on this subject. 

We said there were also some probabilities as to the future con¬ 
dition of the saints, which are derivable from known facts in Jeho¬ 
vah’s kingdom. It is not probable that such mental and moral 
powers as our Creator has given us will lie inactive through eternity. 
The most sublime feature in the human mind is its law of unlimited 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


255 


progression. Place it under circumstances favorable for develop¬ 
ment, and there is no limit to its onward progress. Verily, such 
minds were made for heaven—made for a sphere where God is to be 
known—where we come into perfect sympathy with the Infinite 
Mind, and where both mental and moral powers will be eternally 
active, and where consequently such attainments as angels make will 
be our perfect blessedness. 

Again, it is not probable that in such a universe as this there 
can be any lack of ample field for effort. God has not thrown worlds 
and systems of worlds from his creative hand, peopling universal 
space with material globes for nothing. Those twinkling points of 
light have some other object than to excite the wonder or task the 
science of mortals on earth. We cannot doubt that God has peopled 
them all with sentient beings, and probably most, if not all, with 
beings of intelligence. If so, there is ample enough space in this 
universe of God for eternal study, even though our minds are eter¬ 
nally progressing in capacity, and forever enjoy the mental and moral 
vigor of an archangel. It is not probable that, launched abroad 
upon such a universe, there will be any lack of created things, the 
study of which will forever reveal more and more of God; nor will 
there be any lack of intelligent beings with whom we may have the 
sweet intercourse of mind with mind and heart with heart. 

Again, it is not probable, considering the cost, so to speak, of 
the arrangements and provisions for the redemption of the race, that 
God will suffer the whole scheme to go into oblivion in his kingdom, 
or to be confined in its influence to an insignificant portion of his 
universal empire. It cannot be that he will fail to make the most of 
it for the well-being of the moral universe. Indeed, we are told that 
“we are a spectacle to angels;” that they sung the birth-day song of 
human salvation; that they strike a fresh note over every fresh con¬ 
vert; minister to each heir of salvation through his earthly toils and 
trials; blend their voices in the mighty paean of universal praise to 
God and to the Lamb that was slain, forever and forever:—how then 
can we doubt that they will catch the story of redemption in all its 
thrilling details from the lips of redeemed saints, and help to bear it 
far away and away to the remotest provinces of Jehovah’s empire. It 
is not on earth alone that we have missionary work to do. The next 
great commission will be—Go ye through all this outspreading, far- 
reaching universe, and preach the glad tidings to every creature. Tell 


256 


THE HOME BEYOND 


them for their joy what infinite love has done. Tell them how God’s 
own dear Son was given up; came down from his co-equal throne to 
earth; allied himself to mortal flesh; endured reproach and death 
from those he would save; tell them the whole story of the cross; lay 
open the scenes of Calvary, and then disclose the scheme of God’s 
providential agency and of his spiritual agency to turn from sin to 
holiness a countless people to the praise of his grace; let each saint 
tell his own story and show how God followed him with mercies, 
converted him by his power, and then kept him through faith unto 
salvation; go, you have enough to say; testify to those minds in that 
far-off world, that they may learn more of their own Maker and 
Father.” Such may be a part of the employments of the heavenly 
world. 

—— 

KNOWING BY AND BY. 


REV. C. H. FOWLER, L.L. D. 



;OW we know in part, but then shall I know even as also I 
am known.” In another line of thought we know only 
in part the work and movement of his providence. I can¬ 
not tell you why it is that that little child in that home of 
luxury and comfort, with all the advantages of Christian 
culture, trained to be a child of God, with all the chances 
of education, with everything to make its promises for the future 
large, is smitten and carried away, while that one having an inheri¬ 
tance of shame, degradation and crime, should grow up to make 
society tremble, and increase the burden and the weight of the world’s 
sin. I cannot tell you why it is, because I see such a small part of 
it. I do not know why it is that that boy whose heart is fixed on 
doing God’s will, who is determined, if possible, to take hold of men, 
even at the bottom of society, and lift them up into the light and 
comfort of God, and into fellowship with him, should be touched in 
his sight and slip out into the darkness to be a burden to his friends, 
while that boy who uses his sight only for purposes of evil, who uses 
his eyes only to plan the destruction of the innocent and unwary, is 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


257 


permitted to live and see his way to destruction. I cannot compre¬ 
hend it at all; I may find it out by and by, as I understand this way; 
I shall know by and by something about this. I may find out that 
we cannot weave a garment and not have the threads touch each 
other; I may find out that we cannot perpetuate the race without 
keeping in all the links in the chain. I may find out that God pur¬ 
posed that that boy in the alley should have the largest chance from 
his start; that, by looking into the face of some Christian man, and 
by hearing his voice from the pulpit, and the word out of his book, 
he must have some chance of getting a home yonder. It may all 
come clear in what I call now “the mystery of my freedom;” but this 
I do know, that somehow, some time, by and by I shall know. 

We cannot see the significance of many things that happen in 
this life. It was a dark day for you when he took that little lamb 
out of your arms where it was warm, and put her away in the cold 
earth. You could not understand it at all; she was so gentle and 
full of smiles and tenderness; she was unto you all in all. You know 
how you trembled and quaked when she grew thin; you thought you 
would never see the sunshine again. When you put her in the silent 
house, away in the darkness, you did not understand it, and do not 
understand it to-day. It may be you have carried that little grave 
these many years; it is a sad fact in your experience, but you shall 
know by and by. Oh! sometimes it seems a weary, worn way! We 
go along heavy paths; we carry hard loads and stagger under them; 
and one after another falls; we see ourselves left alone with nobody in 
the universe but God. We think it strange; we take a little more 
hope and gird ourselves for the race. But know this, even though 
we run in the darkness, we shall see and we shall know even as we 
are known. Time hacks out our frames; we grow gray, and thin, 
and wrinkled; we wonder how those who went away when we were 
young and in the vigor of our early manhood will ever know us, what 
changes will come over them, and how we shall see them, but we 
shall know even as we are known. 


The less of this brief life, the more of heaven} 
The shorter time, the longer immortality. 


THE HOME BEYOND 


JOYS OF HEAVEN. 


NANCY A. W. PRIEST. 


Beyond these chilling winds and gloomy skies, 

Beyond Death’s cloudy portal— 

There is a land where beauty never dies, 

And love becomes immortal. 

A land whose light is never dimmed by shade, 

Whose fields are ever vernal, 

Where nothing beautiful can ever fade, 

But blooms for aye eternal. 

We may not know how sweet its balmy air, 

How bright and fair its flowers; 

We may not hear the songs that echo there, 

Through those enchanted bowers. 

The city’s shining towers we may not see, 

With our dim earthly vision: 

For Death, the silent warder, keeps the key 
That opes those gates elysian. 

But sometimes, where adown the western sky 
The fiery sunset lingers, 

Its golden gates swing inward noiselessly, 

Unlocked by silent fingers. 

And whiie they stand a moment half ajar, 

Gleams from the inner glory, 

Stream lightly through the azure vault afar, 

And half reveal the story. 

O land unknown! O land of love divine! 

Father all-wise, eternal, 

Guide, guide, these wandering, way-worn feet of mine, 
Unto those pastures vernal. 


O glorious l^nd of heavenly light, 

Where walked the ransomed, clothed in white, 
On hills of myrrh, through pastures green, 

No curse, no cloud upon the scene! 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

NO NIGHT IN HEAVEN. 


259 


REV. J. EDMONSON. 


F there be no night in heaven, there cannot be any inter 
ruptions either of employments or enjoyments. If the de¬ 
lightful exercises, or the pleasurable feelings of heaven 
could be interrupted for a moment, they might come to an 
end; and if they come to an end, all the promises of God 
would fail. But that these services and enjoyments may 
not be interrupted, there is no night, and no sleep. The night is 
made for sleep, and sleep is fit for the night; but these belong to 
time, and will not be necessary in eternity. When we are truly 
happy in God, in the present state of things, we are always ready to 
say, “ O, could I ever live in such a frame as this!” and that which 
we now desire, in our best moments, will be realized when we are 
advanced to the glory of heaven. 

When our works are holy and useful, we desire to continue in 
them without interruption; and this desire will be gratified when we 
mix with immortals in that world where there is no night. God 
never ceases to work. He has no night; and we shall be like him in 
his holy temple. Here, our holy Sabbaths end in night; and our 
public worship is interrupted. We depart from the holy sanctuary 
of our God, lie down and sleep, and then return to the duties of life; 
but in heaven, the Sabbath will be one eternal day, and all its delight¬ 
ful exercises will be perpetual. For there will never be a moment, 
to all eternity, in which the celestial hosts will not be employed in 
doing the will of Him that sitteth upon the throne. 

But what a contrast is found, by those who examine the subject, 
between our night in this world, and their day in the world above! a 
contrast which casts a deep shade on earth and earthly things; but 
which adds fresh lustre to the glory of heaven. Our night, except 
when favored with the feeble light of the moon and the stars, is a 
season of darkness; but their light always shines, in all its strength, 
and in all its beauty. In our night, robbers and murderers cany 
on their infernal works of darkness; but in heaven, all are pure and 
holy. Here, wickedness, in all its horrid forms, is committed under 
the cover of darkness; but there, the wickedness of the wicked is 
unknown, and the just are established in peace; the volupteous sons 






260 


THE HOME BEYOND 


of folly pursue unhallowed nocturnal pleasures, when they are covered 
by the darkness of night; but in the regions of light and day there 
are no unsanctified pleasures to allure the soul from a pure enjoy- 
ment of God. 

Here, wearisome nights are appointed to the sons and daugh 
iers of affliction, and they often cry out, “O that it were morning!” but 
there is no affliction of any kind in the eternal day above. The 
sons of light, in that world, rejoice in the day. They have nothing, 
either within or without, that they wish to hide; nor do they wish 
to hide themselves, like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, 
from the presence of the Lord. The open day suits their character 
and state. They love to be seen by their God and Father, by all his 
holy angels, and by all the saints in light. The night may cover 
guilt and depravity; but they are neither guilty nor depraved. 

But in heaven, there are ever-blooming prospects, and delightful 
assurances of never-ending glory. 

But the sweet and lovely prospect of an eternal day awakens in 
the soul the most lively and ardent desire to mingle with the saints 
in light. Their sun will never go down; the shades of evening will 
never fall on them; nor will they have any gloomy fears of darkness 
or of night. The glory of the Lord shines upon them with un 
diminished splendor; and they all behold it with unceasing rapture 
and delight. 



O! where shall human grief be stilled 
And joy for pain be given, 

Where dwells the sunshine of a love 
In which the soul may always rove? 

A sweet voice answered—Heaven. 

O, heart, I said, when death shall come 
And all thy cords be riven, 

What lies beyond the swelling tide? 
The same sweet voice to mine replied 
In loving accents—Heaven. 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


261 





JESUS IS PEESENT IN HEAVEN. 


HEN Jesus ascended into heaven, he took his seat at the 
p** right hand of God, and appeared in his glorified human- 
ity to all the heavenly host; and all his followers, when 
' they enter into the regions of immortality, will behold his 
glory. This is clearly expressed in the following words:— 

“ Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be 
with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou 
hast given me,” John xvii, 24. 

The glorious appearance of our Lord, in the heavenly world, 
will far exceed our present conceptions. When he appeared to Saul 
of Tarsus, on his way to Damascus, “ a light from heaven, above the 
brightness of the sun” in his meridian splendor, shone on that 
persecutor, and on his companions. Acts xxvi, 13. And when he 
appeared to John in the Isle of Patmos, “ his countenance was as the 
sun shineth in his strength,” Eev. i, 16. But how transcendently 
glorious will be his appearance in heaven, where all is fight and 
perfection, and where every saint will be strengthened to behold his 
glory! 

The Shechinah, or visible symbol of the divine presence, will be 
seen in the glorified humanity of our Lord. The Jewish writers de¬ 
nominate the cloud of glory which appeared to the Israelites in the 
wilderness, the Shechinah , or the habitation of the divine Majesty, 
meaning to dwell or inhabit; but the glorified humanity of our Lord 
will be the tent or tabernacle in which the glory of his divinity will 
dwell, and from which he will shine forth. So it was in the days of 
his flesh, when he dwelt, or tabernacled, among men; for then his 
glory was seen by his holy apostles. John i, 14. But the splendor 
of his Godhead will shine in heaven with a lustre that no mortal eye 
can see, and the “ brightness of his glory” will fill all his saints with 
ineffable delight. 

Then we shall behold the Father on his throne, arrayed in robes 
of fight and glory; the Son will appear as the only begotten of the 
Father, full of grace and truth; and the Holy Ghost will be seen as 
“ seven lamps of fire burning before the throne,” to represent his 
various gifts and graces; for these seven lamps which burn before 
the throne are the seven spirits of God. Eev. i, 4; iv, 5. Law¬ 
man says, “The Holy Spirit, I think, is meant by the seven spir- 






262 


THE HOME BEYOND 


its which are before the throne. Seven, in the language of 
prophecy, often expresses perfection, and may better be under¬ 
stood of the most perfect Spirit of God, the author of all spir¬ 
itual blessings, than of seven angels, as a more natural interpre¬ 
tation of the expression in prophecy, as well as much more agree¬ 
able to the manner of the gospel blessing, from Father, Son and 
Holy Ghost.” 

The appearance of our Lord, in his ineffable glory, will be a 
source of unutterable joy to all his followers. With what rapture 
will they behold the once crucified, but now exalted Savior; every 
one exclaiming, “He loved me, and gave himself for me!” And 
will they not all unite, and cry aloud with grateful feelings, 
“ Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of 
every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation?” Rev. v, 9. 
Thus all heaven will ring with the high praises of the spotless Lamb; 
and his sacrificial death will be proclaimed in songs of everlasting 
praise. 

The lovely character of Jesus, in all his gracious undertakings, 
will be clearly seen and gratefully acknowledged; and the wondrous 
plan of redemption and salvation will be opened to our view in all 
its vast extent, and in all its depths and heights. Then we shall see 
the amazing love which brought our Savior from the skies; and that 
will be finely illustrated by all his mediatorial works. His merciful 
designs will appear in his humble birth, his holy life, his pure minis¬ 
try, his mighty miracles, his painful death, his glorious resurrection, 
and his triumphant ascension into heaven. 



Go, wing thy flight from star to star, 

From world to luminous world, as far 
As the universe spreads its flaming wall; 
Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, 
And multiply each through endless years, 
One minute of heaven is worth them all. 


’Tis a blessing to live, but a greater to die; 

And the best of the world, is its path to the sky. 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
NO FEAR IN HEAVEN. 


263 


Fear is the parent of many sufferings; and frail man has ten 
thousand fears. As a sinner he fears the wrath of God, the terrors of 
death, and the torments of hell; and when he is converted to God he 
is often afraid of the tempter, the loss of grace, and the loss of 
heaven; nor is he wholly delivered from tormenting fear until he is 
made perfect in love. That love may be lost in this world, and 
tormenting fear may return; but all fear that hath torment will cease 
forever when we take our seats above. If this were not the case, a 
dread of future evil would destroy the sweet enjoyments of all the 
saints and angels before the throne of God; and heaven, with all its 
glories, would not be viewed as a place of perfect bliss. 

We must allow that there will be a filial fear of God our Father 
in the world of glory; but there cannot be any painful dread of his 
divine Majesty, or any fear of evil in that holy place. We shall view 
God as the greatest and the best of beings; and while we stand in 
awe of his greatness and glory, we shall love him with undivided 
hearts. We shall not fear the saints in light; for they will be our 
companions and friends; we shall not fear the holy angels who have 
been our ministering spirits, and who conducted us to the realms of 
day; nor shall we fear either evil or danger when we are placed under 
the immediate protection and care of our Almighty Savior. Thus all 
our painful and distressing fears forever end in the heavenly world. 

Rev. J. Edmonson a. m. 


NO SORROW IN HEAVEN. 


Sorrow and sighing are at an end in the realms of bliss. “ There 
sighing grief shall weep no more.” All pain is removed, every w r ant 
is abundantly supplied, and suffering is forever banished from the 
place. There will not be either “sorrow or crying” in the New 
Jerusalem. Rev. xxi, 4. Every cause of sorrow will be entirely and 
eternally removed. To instance in a few particulars: there cannot be 
any sorrow for our own sins, because every saint has been forgiven 
and cleansed from all unrighteousness; there cannot be any sorrow 




264 


THE HOME BEYOND 


for the sins of others, for sinners will not be allowed to enter into 
that place where all are pure and holy; there cannot be any sorrow 
for the dead, for all the inhabitants are immortal; nor can there be 
any sorrow from the oppressions of cruel tyrants, for all in heaven are 
under the influence of pure love. 

In that blessed world there are no sufferings from painful re¬ 
flections on past events; nor any fear or dread of what may happen 
in futurity. “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in 
the morning.” This comfortable passage is in part realized in this 
world; but will have its full accomplishment in the next. For “the 
ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and 
everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and glad¬ 
ness; and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.” These words may be 
applied, in a lower sense, to the deliverance of the Jews from the in¬ 
vasion of the king of Assyria; to their return from the Babylonish 
captivity; or to the Christian church under the reign of the Mes¬ 
siah: but they will not be fully realized until the church returns 
to the heavenly Zion, where there will be an eternal day of joy 
and gladness. Edmonson. 


PARADISE. 

ARCHBISHOP TRENCH. 


Oh! Paradise must show more fair 
Than any earthly ground, 

And therefore longs my spirit there 
Right quickly to be found. 

In Paradise a stream must flow 
Of everlasting love: 

Each tear of longing shed below 
Therein a pearl will prove. 

In Paradise a breath of balm 
All anguish must allay, 

Till every anguish growing calm, 
Even mine shall flee away. 

And there the tree of stillest peace 
In verdant spaces grows; 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


Beneath it one can never cease 
To dream of blest repose. 

For every thorn that pierced me here 
The rose will there be found; 

With joy, earth’s roses brought not near, 
My head will there be crowned. 

There all delights will blossom forth, 
That here in bud expire, 

And from all mourning weeds of earth 
Be wove a bright attire. 

All here I sought in vain pursuit 
Will freely meet me there, 

As from green branches golden fruit, 
Fair flowers from garden fair. 

My youth, that by me swept amain, 

On swift wing borne away, 

And love that suffered me to drain 
Is nectar for a day— 

These, never wishing to depart, 

Will me forever bless, 

Their darling fold unto the heart, 

And comfort and caress. 

And there the Loveliness, whose glance 
From far did on me gleam, 

But whose unveiled countenance 
Was only seen in dream, 

Will, meeting all my soul’s desires, 
Unveil itself to me, 

When to the choir of starry lyres 
Shall mine united be. 



O, heaven is where no secret dread 
May haunt love’s meeting hour; 
Where from the past no gloom is shed 
O’er the heart’s chosen bower. 






266 


THE HOME BEYOND 


HEAVEN OUR HOME. 


REV. E. ADKINS, D. D. 



M HE saints will be blessed with a delightful sense of home. 
0% Home is the dearest spot on earth, the scene of onr purest 


enjoyments. But oh, how precarious are all its pleasures 
and endearments in such a world as this ! How few, com¬ 


paratively, are favored whith a genuine home ! The greater 
part of mankind are wanderers, sojourners, tenants at will. And 
this is the lot of God’s dear children as well as others. But even at 
best an earthly home fails to satisfy the innate longing of the soul. 
The Creator has placed within us aspirations which conform to a 
nobler, happier destiny. Those who are “made heirs of God accord¬ 
ing to the hope of eternal life,” are sensible of this, and cheerfully 
acquiesce in the thought that they have here “no certain dwelling 
place,” nor perfect objects of affection, while they look upward with 
joyful anticipations to their future heavenly home. And these hopes 
will not be disappointed when Christ shall take his elect to himself, 
when they shall receive their inheritance in his everlasting kingdom 
and dwell in the blest mansions prepared for them. King’s palaces 
are but temporary, comfortless booths compared with the “ everlast¬ 
ing habitations ” into which they will be received ; and the sweetest 
domestic enjoyments are scarcely a forestate of the blessedness of 
those heavenly connections and associations amid which they will 
dwell. There will be no precariousness, or imperfection attendant 
upon that blissful home. In it the feeble earthly foretaste will be ex¬ 
changed for complete fruition. The soul’s indefinite longing will be 
satisfied, its ideal realized. Home with God, with loved ones, among 
kindred spirits loving and beloved, and in the midst of all things 
lovely—what more could be desired ? 



The warmest love on earth is still 


Imperfect when ’tis given; 

But there’s a purer clime above, 
Where perfect hearts in perfect love 


Unite; and this is heaven. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
HEAVEN A HAPPY PLACE. 


267 


REV. J. EDMONSON. 



WO things are found in heaven which cannot fail to make 
its inhabitants happy: the first is, the absence of all evil; 
and the second is, the presence of all good. The one pre¬ 
vents sorrow; and the other brings fulness of joy. 

There is no natural evil or affliction in the heavenly world. 
The saints have suffered; but they will not suffer any more. 
There is no moral evil, or sin, in heaven. The saints were once sin¬ 
ners ; but they will not sin any more. Evil examples are not seen in 
the holiest place; for all are wise and good, There cannot be any 
temptation to evil there; for the tempter is shut out for ever. Noth¬ 
ing in the vast extent of heaven can excite fear or dread; but every¬ 
thing inspires the soul with hope. There is no folly, and no vice in 
that happy world; but wisdom and goodness are found in rich abun¬ 
dance, for all are wise and good. 

Everlasting goodness will flow, in copious streams, from the 
fountain of love; and every thing that is good, every thing that is 
holy, and every thing that can be desired, will be plentifully supplied. 
There will be no want of anything that is necessary to complete the 
felicity of God’s family. A rich feast of the most delicious intellec¬ 
tual pleasure is already provided; and it will be an eternal feast. The 
appetite will never clog; but the relishes of holy souls for pure enjoy¬ 
ments will be strong and vigorous; and their supplies will be full, 
satisfying, and eternal, The absence of evil excludes the possibility 
of suffering; the presence of all that is good includes every kind of 
enjoyment; and where these are found, there is perfect felicity. 
What has the world to equal this? If a man could gain the whole 
world, and enjoy it without sorrow, his state would be vastly inferior 
to that of the humblest saint in the paradise of God. 


Keflections on past deliverances will afford a considerable por¬ 
tion of happiness to all the saints in the heavenly world. It is highly 
probable that the guardian angels of their infancy will give them 
delightful details of many surprising deliverances from danger in that 
early period of life; and of those deliverances which they experienced 




268 


THE HOME BEYOND 


when they where but little ones in grace; for then those angels, that 
behold the face of God, were employed in their protection. Matt, 
rviii, 10. Holy spirits will recollect with inexpressible joy their de¬ 
liverance from the guilt and power of sin; and that grace which en 
abled them to obey the gospel of God their Savior. Once they were 
tossed on the stormy ocean of life; but now they are in a peaceful 
haven. They had many conflicts with the world, the flesh, and the 
devil; but they conquered in the strength of Jesus, and have left the 
iield of battle. 


HEAVEN. 


REV. GEO. H. HEPWORTH D. D. 


Let me speak to you upon that state which is called heaven. 
The people of every nation seem to have an idea of a future life. 
No nation has ever existed without it. There are many things about 
heaven that we cannot think of. They are beyond the scope of hrn 
man thought. No man can conceive the glories of the future any 
more than he can perceive the perfume of flowers without the odor. 
Brutal nations have a brutal heaven; Christian nations have a sent¬ 
iment of enjoyment in it. The American Indian dreams of a pro¬ 
mised land where he and his dog will be united and where his wig¬ 
wam will never be torn down ; where his little ones will play about 
his homestead forever and where there will be no more sorrow. 
Even the rude Scandinavian lived in contemplation of a future 
state, where he would be victorious over his enemies from sunrise to 
sunset and where he would drink out of the skulls of his vanquished 
foes. The Indian carries to his heaven his bows and arrows and 
dog ; the Scandinavian carried his enemies and his hatred to his para¬ 
dise ; the Indian cannot conceive of any higher heaven than one 
vast continent covered by forests, dotted by running rivulets and 
quiet glistening lakes. The Christian passes from Nazareth to Je¬ 
rusalem ; he dreams of something brighter ; his general tone of life 
has been elevated, his feelings are deeper, sympathies are brighter 
and purer ; a better nature animates the Christian and supplements 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


269 


his future home. We look forward to that other land where we 
can take complete rest, where there shall be no darkness or sorrow, 
but eternal light and joy. It is a home for us. How much is implied 
in the term “home !” Persons who have travelled in Europe can well 
appreciate it. They get sick and tired, after having travelled from 
place to place, of the continual change. Many persons during the first 
week of their sojourn through Paris think it a paradise; in a few 
weeks more it becomes tedious and they long for their home. They 
went to Germany and whirled about in railroad cars, until they sick¬ 
ened of perpetual travel. But they entertained a hope ; it was for 
that sweet little homestead in New England, on a hill side or the other 
home in the city, because they have made that habitation their home 
so long. Heaven is such a home, and we await here until the King 
sends word that He requires us to attend in His august presence. 
That thought is the foundation stone of the Christian religion. 


ATTRACTIONS OF HEAVEN 


Though earth has fully many a beautiful spot, 

As a poet or painter might show, 

Yet more lovely and beautiful, holy and bright, 

To the hopes of the heart and the spirit’s glad sight, 

Is the land that no mortal may know. 

O! who but must pine in this dark vale of tears, 

From its clouds and its shadows to go, 

To walk in the light of glory above, 

To share in the peace, and the joy, and the love, 

Of the land that no mortal may know! 

There the crystalline stream, bursting forth from the throne, 
Flows on, and forever will flow; 

Its waves as they roll are with melody rife, 

And its waters are sparkling with beauty and life, 

In the land which no mortal may know. 

And there, on its margin, with leaves ever green, 

With its fruits healing sickness and woe, 

The fair tree of life, in its glory and pride, 

Is fed by that deep, inexhaustible tide 
Of the land which no mortal may know. 

Bernard Barton. 




t'LHL SHALL CL NO MORE 




































































































































































































































































































































































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


271 


NO MORE SEA. 


REV. RUFUS W. CLARK D. D. 



) OW little, after hearing of a wreck, and of the sad fate of 
i g all on board the ship, do we realize that there were sons, 


fathers and husbands, in that struggling, gasping group,— 
that those lifeless forms were bound to friends by ties as 

i strong and tender as those that unite us to the dearest oR 

jects of our affection! How little do we think of the families 
in different towns and villages, to whom the announcement of the 
wreck comes as a thunderbolt,—whose sighs, and tears, and habili¬ 
ments of mourning, tell where the lightning of affliction has struck! 

Is there not a depth and intensity of meaning, to such, in the 
declaration of St. John, that in the heavenly world there is no more 
sea,—no more separation from dear friends,—no more nights of 
weary watchings and deep agony,—no more startling intelligence of 
the loss of those we love ? 

The sea is the emblem af all life’s trials. Its ceaselessly rolling 
billows shadow forth the agitations of many hearts. Its roar is the 
echo of the groans of an afflicted world. Its perils are emblematic 
of the moral dangers that surround the soul of man. We are all 
upon the ocean. Every human being has his voyage to make, his 
dangers to encounter. Many a dark wave lies between us and the 
haven of rest. We have barks freighted with more precious substan¬ 
ces than silver or gold. The merchant may lose his ships. The sea 
may engulf his property, and leave him a bankrupt. This is a 
calamity. But greater calamities threaten many voyagers now sail¬ 
ing upon the ocean of life. They are attempting to make the pas¬ 
sage without noticing the compass, whose needle points to the throne 
of God, and with no pilot at the helm. They seldom consult their 
chart, that marks out the only course by which they can reach the 
celestial city,—that indicates the rocks and dangers of the way. They 
heed not the beacon-lights held forth by patriarchs, prophets and 
apostles. Though the forms of these holy messengers may be seen 
moving along the shore, with torches in their hands,—though their 
voices may be heard amid the roar of the waters, warning the care¬ 
less mariner of the dangers that surround him, pleading with him to 
escape the wild breakers that have swallowed up thousands of human 





272 


THE HOME BEYOND 


beings,—yet he heeds them not. Bent upon his pleasures, absorbed 
by his schemes for transient good, he thinks that it will be time 
enough to arouse himself, when the peril is more apparent. He sees 
that his ship is strong. Every timber is sound; every plank is bolted 
with iron. He looks above, and every mast, spar, sail and rope, is 
in its place. What need of alarm, when every thing appears so se¬ 
cure? Thus reasons the man in health and prosperity. But suddenly 
the alarming tidings ring through the cabin, that the ship has struck, 
and is fast upon the rocks. Now, in the panic of the hour, the 
voyager runs to his chart; but this cannot help him. He looks at 
the compass; but it points whither he cannot go. He seizes the helm; 
but its power is gone. He pleads for deliverance; but there comes 
from the shore a voice, “ Too late.” 

O! is it not a blessed announcement, that there is a world where 
no such moral danger will surround the soul,—where no waves of 
temptation will roll over us, and no sea of sorrow endanger our hopes 
or our happiness ? 

In the next place, we are assured, by the declaration before us, 
that no storms will arise in the home of the blessed. 

The sea is emphatically the theatre of storms. Here they rage 
with their greatest fury, and produce the most marked and terrific 
results. How frail an object is the stoutest ship, when in the fatal 
grasp of an ocean tempest! With what speed it is driven before the 
resistless force of the wind! How easily the billows sport with it, tos¬ 
sing it from wave to wave, as though it were but a feather! The 
stroke of a single surge makes every timber tremble, and causes the 
vessel to quiver like an aspen-leaf. I need not describe a storm at 
sea. Its violence, its awful grandeur and disastrous effects, have oft 
been told. The piercing, maddened winds; the wild, foaming sur¬ 
ges; the lurid lightning, the crashing thunder, the reeling of the ship 
like a drunken man, the strained and cracking ropes, the bending- 
mast, falling spars, rent and torn sails, the cold mist that fills and 
darkens the air, the consternation of rapidly-beating hearts, the 
dread, horrible suspense of the hour,—all these are familiar to 
the reader. I have read of Christian voyagers who have said that 
they never knew the full meaning of the apostle’s declaration un¬ 
til they had experienced a storm at sea! And not a few, going 
down into the dark waters, have derived great comfort from the 
assurance that in the heavenly world there is no more sea. There 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


273 


serene skies, an unclouded atmosphere and perfect peace, forever 
reign. The saint, instead of gazing upon a wild waste of waters, is 
surrounded with the splendors of celestial cities. Instead of the 
roar of midnight tempests, the music from angelic choirs, and from 
the worshiping multitude around the throne, thrills his soul. 

In heaven there is no sea to furnish a burial-place for the dead. 
Since the beginning of the world, what vast multitudes have been de¬ 
posited in the seaman’s church-yard! Though no tolling bell has called 
together sympathizing friends, though no green sod has opened to 
receive them, and no quiet grove invited them to rest beneath its 
shadows, yet they have had their funeral services. The winds have 
sung their requiem, the waves have furnished a winding sheet, and 
coral monuments mark their resting-places. Generation after gene¬ 
ration have sunk in the dark waters, and now wait the summons of 
the last trumpet-peal. Multitudes more will follow them, and go 
down to sleep beside them. 

Mrs. Hemans has beautifully described a wreck and death at 
sea, in the following touching words: 

All night the booming minute-gun 
Had pealed along the deep, 

And mournfully the rising sun 
Looked o’er the tide-worn steep. 

A bark, from India’s coral strand, 

Before the raging blast, 

Had veiled her topsails to the sand, 

And bowed her noble mast. 

The queenly ship! brave hearts had striven 
And true ones died with her!— 

We saw her mighty cable riven, 

Like floating gossamer. 

We saw her proud flag struck that morn, 

A star once o’er the seas,— 

Her anchor gone, her deck uptorn, 

And sadder things than these. 

We saw the strong man still and low, 

A crushed reed thrown aside; 

Yet, by that rigid lip and brow, 

Not without strife he died. 

And near him on the sea-weed lay,— 

Till then we had not wept,— 


274 


THE HOME BEYOND 


But well our gushing hearts might say, 

That there a mother slept! 

For her pale arms a babe had pressed, 

With such a wreathing grasp, 

Billows had dashed o’er that fond breast, 

Y et not undone the clasp. 

Her very tresses had been flung 
To wrap the fair child’s form, 

* Where still then wet, long streamers hung, 

All tangled by the storm. 

And, beautiful ’midst that wild scene, 

Gleamed up the boy’s dead face, 

Like slumbers trustingly serene, 

In melancholy grace. 

Deep in her bosom lay his head, 

With half-shut violet eye;— 

He had known little of her dread, 

Naught of her agony! 

O, human love, whose yearning heart, 

Through all things vainly true, 

So stamps upon thy mortal part 
Its passionate adieu, 

Surely thou hast another lot,— 

There is some home for thee, 

Where thou shalt rest, remembering not 
The moaning of the sea! 

Yes, there is a home, far above all ocean tempests,—a home where the 
death-chill from cold waters will never he experienced! 

At the appointed hour, the sea shall give up its dead. Coral 
tombs, and “the giant caverns of the unfathomed ocean,” will resign 
their charge; and this corruption shall put on incorruption, and this 
mortal be clothed with immortality. Then may the glorified saints, 
having reached the haven of peace, cast their anchors within the 
vail, and feel secure from all danger. 

“ O, for a breeze of heavenly love, 

To waft my soul away 
To the celestial world above, 

Where pleasures ne’er decay f 

From rocks of pride on either hand, 

From quicksands of despair, 

O, guide me safe to Canaan’s land, 

Through every fatal snare! 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


Anchor me in that port above, 

On that celestial shore, 

Where dashing billows never move, 
Where tempests never roar!” 


THE SHOEE OF ETERNITY. 


REV. F. W. FABER, D. D. 


Alone! to land alone upon that shore. 

With no one sight that we have ever seen before 
Things of a different hue, 

And the sounds all new, 

And fragrances so sweet the soul may faint. 
Alone! Oh, that first hour of being a saint. 

Alone! to land upon that shore, 

On which no wavelets lisp, no billows roar, 
Perhaps no shape of ground, 

Perhaps no sight or sound, 

No forms of earth our fancies to arrange— 

But to begin, alone, that mighty change! 

Alone! to land alone upon that shore, 

Knowing so well we can return no more; 

No voice or face of friend, 

None with us to attend 
Our disembarking on that awful strand, 

But to arrive alone in such a land! 

Alone! to land upon that shore! 

To begin alone to live forevermore, 

To have no one to teach 
The manners or the speech 
Of that new life, or put us at our ease; 

Oh! that we might die in pairs or companies! 

Alone? The God we know is on that shore, 

The God of whose attractions we know more 
Than of those who may appear 
Nearest and dearest here; 

Oh, is He not the life-long friend we know 
More privately than any friend below? 




276 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE NEW JEKUSALEM. 


REV. HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 


Bathed in unfallen sunlight, 

Itself a sun-born gem, 

Fair gleams the glorious city, 

The new Jerusalem! 

City fairest, 

Splendor rarest, 

Let me gaze on thee! 

Calm in her queenly glory, 

She sits all joy and light; 

Pure in her bridal beauty, 

Her raiment festal-white! 

Home of gladness, 

Free from sadness, 

Let me dwell in thee! 

Shading her golden pavement 
The tree of life is seen, 

Its fruit-rich branches waving, 
Celestial evergreen. 

Tree of wonder, 

Let me under 
Thee forever rest! ' 

Fresh from the throne of Godhead 
Bright in its crystal gleam, 

Bursts out the living fountain, 
Swells on the living stream. 
Blessed river, 

Let me ever 
Feast my eye on thee! 

Streams of true life and gladness, 
Springs of all health and peace; 

No harps by thee hang silent, 

Nor happy voices cease. 

Tranquil river, 

Let me ever 

Sit and sing by thee! 

River of God, I greet thee, 

Not now afar, but near; 

My soul to thy still waters 
Hastes in its thirstings here. 

Holy river, 

Let me ever 
Drink of only thee! 

































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































M 


RGeOGOITIOn OF HRIGDDS 

I£T <i|[ 

E^^^S^EEHE^EHEHEHE5ES i E^^^3E^^^SEES^\ 


SUMMARY OF REASONS FOR RECOGNITION. 


BISHOP SAMUEL FALLOWS D. D. 



HIS doctrine of future recognition is reasonable, because 
many of the same means which will enable us to identify 
ourselves in another life, will also enable us to identify our 


friends and former acquaintances. The consciousness of 
our mortality remains and connects us with all the past. The 
life on earth with its associations must come up before the 
mind and awake in the heart ; and with this must appear our 
friends with whom we were bound below by social ties and rela¬ 
tions. 

Second. Memory will continue in another life. “ Son, remem¬ 
ber that thou in thy life time /” are the words of Abraham to the 
rich man. 

Memory cannot exist without recognition. The associations of 
friendship and love are the deepest seated and most precious of all. 
In a new country a desire after friends is among the first and 
strongest emotions of the soul; why should this desire not be 
gratified in heaven. 

B 279 





280 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Third. The social law so radical and deeply seated in our nat¬ 
ure is a further reason for belief in recognition. We are all by nat¬ 
ure and in our constitution—physical,intellectual and moral,—united, 
related and dependent beings. 

Our highest earthly happiness springs from our social feelings. 
The Kingdom of Christ on earth hallows and perfects these. Why 
should they be ignored or annihilated in the Kingdom of Christ in 
Heaven. 

Fourth. “ Death sometimes makes interruptions in the process oS 
things which seem, in the nature of things, to require completion in a 
future life ; which, however., can only be done by recognition.” 

Benefits and blessings may have been conferred upon us by per¬ 
sons to whom we have not been able to express our gratitude. They 
are in the better land, we desire to see them there and thankfully 
acknowledge the good which has been done to us. The one con¬ 
ferring the benefit, the philanthropist, the minister of Christ, the 
faithful missionary or Sunday-school worker would be robbed of his 
just due if the acknowlegement is not made in some way to him. 

Fifth. The final judgment necessarily involves details of act of 
persons inseparably associated with each other, so as to lead naturally 
to recognition. 

All our good deeds are of a social kind—a great many of our good 
acts are so connected with the acts of others, and their influences are 
so merged into each other, that even we ourselves cannot trace our 
own acts in all their consequences. We influence others, and they us. 
Thus, faithfulness of parents in their family duties—faithfulness on 
the part of the members of a congregation towards each other, and in 
the community generally—makes the recollection and recognition 
of those thus associated absolutely neccessary, in the proceedings 
of that great day. 

Sixth. The doctrine of heavenly recognition is highly reason- 
a e to us, when we consider the ground we have for believing that 
our owledge in the future world will be vastly enlarged in a general 
way, and of course in this respect in particular. If, our knowledge 
w increase in general, it must also increase in particular; and if 
°i Ur i^ eSen ^ knowledge will not be destroyed, but merged and in¬ 
cluded in the higher wisdom of our eternal state, it will most as- 
suie y beai along with it that particular knowledge which is associa¬ 
ted with the heavenly recognition of our sainted friends. 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


?81 

Seventh. “The interest which heavenly beings feel in the 
affairs of saints on earth, furnishes us reasonable ground for the be¬ 
lief in heavenly recognition. 

There is no difficulty in believing that, on the part of saints in 
heaven, an acquaintance with us is kept up. We have lost them for 
a time, but they have not lost us. As they have gone higher, they 
have capacities and privileges which we, who are still beneath them* 
have not; and this may extend to a constant oversight and interest 
in us. This sense is as natural as any other to the passage, “ Then 
shall I know even as also I am known.” We are now known to 
them; but when we enter the state in which they now are, then shall 
we know them as they now know us.” 

- - 002 ^— 

ISOLATION AND FTJTUKE UNION. 


We walk alone through all life’s various ways, 
Through light and darkness, sorrow, joy, and change; 
And greeting each to each, through passing days, 

Still we are strange. 

We hold our dear ones with a firm, strong grasp; 

We hear their voices, look into their eyes; 

And yet, betwixt us in that clinging clasp 
A distance lies. 

We cannot hnoxv their hearts, howe’er we may 
Mingle thought, aspiration, hope, and prayer; 

We cannot reach them, and in vain essay 
To enter there. 

Still, in each heart of hearts a hidden deep 
Lies, never fathomed by its dearest, best; 

With closest care our purest thoughts we keep, 

And tenderest. 

But, blessed thought! we shall not always so 
In darkness and in sadness walk alone; 

There comes a glorious day when we shall know 
As we are known. 






282 


THE HOME BEYOND 
SHALL WE KNOW EACH OTHEB. 


REV. T. DE WITT TALMAGE D. D. 



iTF we part on earth will we meet again in the next world f 
^ “Well,” says someone, “that seems to be an impossibility. 
Heaven is so large a place we never could find our kindred 
there.” Going into some city, without having appointed 
a time and place for meeting, you might wander around 
for weeks and for months, and perhaps for years, and 
never see each other; and heaven is vaster than all earthly 
cities together, and how are you going to find your departed friend in 
that country? It is so vast a realm. John went up on one mountain 
of inspiration, and he looked off upon the multitude, and he said, 
“Thousands of thousands.” Then he came upon a greater altitude 
of inspiration and looked off upon it again, and he said, “ Ten thou¬ 
sand times ten thousand.” And then he came on a higher mount of 
inspiration, and looked off again, and he said, “A hundred and forty 
and four thousand and thousands of thousands.” And he came on a 
still greater height of inspiration, and he looked off again, and ex¬ 
claimed: U A great multitude that no man can number” 

Now I ask, how are you going to find your friends in such a 
throng as that ? Is not this idea we have been entertaining after all a 
falsity ? Is this doctrine of future recognition of friends in heaven a 
guess, a myth, a whim, or is it a granite foundation upon which the 
soul pierced of all ages may build a glorious hope ? Intense question ? 
Every heart in this audience throbs right into it. There is in every 
soul here the tomb of at least one dead. 


TREMENDOUS QUESTION! 


It makes the lip quiver, and the cheek flush, and the entire nature 
thrill: Shall we know each other there? I get letters almost every 
month asking me to discuss this subject. I get a letter in. a bold, 
scholarly hand, on gilt-edged paper, asking me to discuss this ques¬ 
tion, and I say, “Ah! that is a curious man, and he wants a curious 
question solved.” But I get another letter. It. is written with a 
trembling hand, and on what seems to be a torn out leaf of a book 
and here and there is the mark of a tear; and I say, “Oh, that is a 
broken heart, and it wants to be comforted.” 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


283 


The object of this sermon is to take this theory out of the region 
of surmise “and speculation into the region of positive certainty 
People say, “ It would be very pleasant if that doctrine were true. I 
hope it may be true. Perhaps it is true. I wish it were true.” But 
I believe that I can prove the doctrine of future recognition as 
plainly as that there is any heaven at all, and that the kiss of reunion 
at the celestial gate will be as certain as the dying kiss at the door of 
the sepulchre. 

SHALL WE KNOW EACH OTHER. 


Dr. Luther made remarks on the question: “Whether in the 
future blessed and eternal assembly and church w T e shall know each 
other?” And as we anxiously desired to know his opinion, he said: 
How did Adam do ? He had never in his life seen Eve—he lay and 
slept—yet, when he awoke did not say, “Whence did you come ? who 
are you?” but he said: “This is now bone of my bone, and flesh of 
my flesh.” How did he know that this woman did not spring forth 
from a stone ? He knew it because he was full of the Holy Spirit, and 
in possession of the true knowledge of God. Into this knowledge 
and image we will, in the future life, again be renewed in Christ; so 
that we will know father, mother, and one another, on sight, better 
than did Adam and Eve.” Luther’s Conversations. 


EXPECTATION OF MEETING FRIENDS. 


I must confess, as the experience of my own soul, that the ex¬ 
pectation of loving my friends in heaven principally kindles my love 
to them on earth. If I thought that I should never know them, and 
consequently never love them after this life is ended, I should in rea¬ 
son number them with temporal things, and love them as such. But 
I now delight to converse with my pious friends, in a firm persua¬ 
sion that I shall converse with them for ever; and I take comfort in 
those of them that are dead or absent, as believing I shall shortly 
meet them in heaven, and love them with a heavenly love that shall 
there be perfected. Rev. Richard Baxter. 





284 


THE HOME BEYOND 


FRIENDS WILL BE KNOWN IN HEAVEN. 



*ANY are anxious to know if they will recognize their 
friends in heaven. In the 8th chapter of Matthew and 
the 11th verse, we read: And I say unto you, that many 
shall come, from the east and west, and shall sit down 
with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, in the kingdom of 
heaven. 

Here we find that Abraham, who lived so many hundreds of 
years before Christ, had not lost his identity, and Christ tells us that 
the time is coming when they shall come from the east and west and 
shall sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of 
God. These men had not lost their identity; they were known as 
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. And if you will turn to that wonderful 
scene that took place on the Mount of Transfiguration, you will find 
that Moses, who had been gone from the earth 1,500 years, was 
there; Peter, James and John saw him on the Mount of Trans¬ 
figuration; they saw him as Moses; he had not lost his name. God 
says over here in Isaiah, “I will not blot your names out of the 
Lamb’s Book of life.” We have names in heaven; we are going to 
bear our names there; we will be known. 

Over in the Psalms it says: When I wake in His likeness I shall 
be satisfied. This is enough. Want is written on every human heart 
down here, but there we will be satisfied. You may hunt the world 
from one end to the other, and you will not find a man or woman 
who is satisfied; but in heaven we will want for nothing. 

D. L. Moody. 


CALVIN. 


God bless you, best and noblest brother; and if God permits you 
still longer to live, forget not that tie that binds us, which will be just 
as agreeable to us in heaven as it has been useful to the church on 
earth. John Calvin’s lettee to Faeel. 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


285 


WE LIVE IN HOPE OF SEEING FRIENDS AGAIN. 





us in order to precede us. We may long after them as we 


lament them. We may not here below put on dark robes 
of mourning, when they above have already put on white 


robes of glory; w T e may not give the heathens any just occasion to ac¬ 
cuse us of weeping for those as lost and extinct, of whom we say 
that they live with God, and of failing to prove by the witness of our 
hearts the faith we confess with our lips. We, who live in hope, 
who believe in God, and trust that Christ had suffered for us and 
risen again; we, who abide in Christ, who through him and in him 
rise again—why do we not ourselves wish to depart out of this 
world ?—or why do we lament for the friends who have been sepa- 
rated from us, as if they were lost ? Cyprian. 



THE STRONG IMMORTAL HOPE. 


If death my friend and me divide, 

Thou dost not, Lord, my sorrows chide, 
Nor frown my tears to see; 

Restrained from passionate excess, 

Thou bidst me mourn in calm distress, 

For them that rest in thee. 

I feel a strong, immortal hope, 

Which bears my mournful spirit up 
Beneath its mountain load; 

Redeemed from death, and grief, and pain, 
I soon shall find my friend again, 

Within the arms of God. 

Pass the few fleeting moments more, 

And death the blessing shall restore, 



Which death hath snatched away: 
For me, thou wilt the summons send, 
And give me back my parted friend, 


In that eternal day! 






286 


THE HOME BEYOND 


IS MEMORY ANNIHILATED. 



►T has been asked, shall we know each other in heaven? 
Suppose you should not; you may be assured of this, that 
nothing will be wanting to your happiness. But oh! you 
say, how would the thought affect me now! There is the 
babe that was torn from my bosom; how lovely then, but a 
cherub now ! There is the friend, who was as mine own soul,with 
whom I took sweet counsel, and went to the house of God in com¬ 
pany. There is the minister—whose preaching turned my feet into 
the path of peace—whose w r ords were to me a well of life. There is 
the beloved mother, on whose knees I first laid my little hands to 
pray, and whose lips first taught my tongue to pronounce the name 
of Jesus ! And are these removed from us forever? Shall we recog¬ 
nize them no more ?—Cease your anxieties. Can memory be annihil¬ 
ated? Did not Peter, James, and John know Moses and Elias? Does 
not the Savior inform us that the friends, benefactors have made 
of the mammon of unrighteousness, shall receive them into everlast¬ 
ing habitations ? Does not Paul tell the Thessalonians that they are 
his hope, and joy, and crown, at the coming of our Lord Jesus 
Christ? 

Rev. Wm. Jay. 


RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN. 


And the saints now crowned in triumph, 
Like the sun, in radiance glow, 

Greet each other in that gladness 
Which the saints alone can know; 

Whilst secure they count their battles 
With their subjugated foe. 

To their first estate return they, 

Freed from every mortal sore; 

And the truth forever present, 

Ever lovely, they adore; 

Drawing from that living fountain 
Living sweetness evermore. 


Peter Damiani. 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


287 


FRIENDS AND ENEMIES MEET IN HEAVEN. 



HEN we come to heaven we shall meet with all those excel¬ 
lent persons, those brave minds, those innocent and charit¬ 
able souls, whom we have seen, and heard, and read of in 
the world. There we shall meet many of our dear rela¬ 
tions and intimate friends, ahd perhaps with many of our 
enemies, to whom we shall then be perfectly reconciled, 
notwithstanding all the warm contests and peevish differ¬ 
ences which we had with them in this world, even about matters 
of religion. For heaven is a state of perfect love and friendship. 

Archbishop Tillotson. 



OUR DEPARTED FRIENDS ARE IN HEAVEN. 


If there is anything that ought to make heaven near to Christians, 
it is knowing that God and all their loved ones will be there. What 
is it that makes home so attractive ? Is it because we have a beautiful 
home ? Is it because we have beautiful lawns ? Is it because we have 
beautiful trees around that home ? Is it because we have beautiful 
paintings upon the walls inside ? Is it because we have beautiful fur¬ 
niture ? Is that all that makes home so attractive and so beautiful ? 
Nay, it is the loved ones in it; it is the loved ones there. 

I remember after being away from home some time, I went back 
to see my honored mother, and I thought in going back I would 
take her by surprise, and steal in unexpectedly upon her, but when I 
found she had gone away, the old place didn’t seem like home at all. 
( went into one room and then into another, and I went all through 
the house, but I could not find that loved mother, and I said to some 
member of the family, “ Where is mother ?” and they said she had 
gone away. Well, home had lost its charm to me ; it was that mother 
that made home so sweet to me, and it is the loved ones that are 
going to make heaven so sweet to all of us. 


D. L. Moody. 







THE KEY. WM. ORMISTON, D. D. 
























OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


289 


RECOGNITION A TRULY CATHOLIC IDEA. 



HAT the saints in glory shall continue to know those whom 
they have known and loved on earth, seems to me to flow 
^ necessarily from the idea of their immortality itself; for this 
cannot be real, except as it includes personal identity or a 
continuation of the same consciousness. It is moreover a 
strictly catholic idea, the sense of which has been actively 
present to the mind of the church, through all ages, in her doctrine 
of the “ Communion of Saints.” This regards not merely Christians 
on earth, but also the sainted dead; according to the true word of 
the hymn ; “ The saints on earth and all the dead, but one com¬ 
munion make.” But communion implies a continuity of reciprocal 
knowledge and affection. 

Rev. J. W. Nevin, D. D. 


According to the representations contained in the holy scriptures, 
the saints dwell together in the future world, and form, as it were, a 
kingdom or state of God. They will there partake of a common fe 
licity. 

Dr. George Christian Knapp. 


DYING FRIENDS PIONEERS. 


Our dying friends come o’er us like a cloud 
To damp our brainless ardors; and abate 
That glare of life, which often blinds the wise. 
Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth 
Our rugged path to death, to break those bars 
Of terror and abhorrence, nature throws 
’Cross our obstructed way; and thus, to make 
Welcome as safe, our port from every storm. 


Young 


All is not over with earth’s broken tie— 

Where, where should sisters love, if not on high? 

Mrs. Hemans. 









THE HOME BEYOND 


THE FUTURE LIFE. 


W. C. BKYANT. 


OW shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps 
The disembodied spirits of the dead, 

When all of thee that time could wither sleeps 
And perishes among the dust we tread? 

For I shall feel the sting of ceaseless pain 
If there I meet thy gentle presence not; 

Nor hear the voice I love, nor read again 
In thy serenest eye, the tender thought. 

Will not thy own meek heart demand me there? 

That heart whose fondest throbs to me were given 
My name on earth was ever in thy prayer, 

Shall it be banished from thy tongue in heaven? 

In meadows fanned by heaven’s life-breathing wind, 
In the resplendence of that glorious sphere, 

And larger movements of the unfettered mind, 

Wilt thou forget the love that joined us here? 

A love that lived through all the stormy past, 

And meekly with my harsher nature bore, 

And deeper grew, and tenderer to the last,— 

Shall it expire with life, and be no more? 

A happier lot than mine, and larger light 

Await thee there; for thou hast bowed thy will 
In cheerful homage to the rule of right, 

And lovest all, and renderest good for ill. 

For me, the sordid cares in which I dwell, 

Shrink and consume my heart, as heat the scroll; 
And wrath has left its scar—that fire of hell 
Has left its frightful scar upon my soul. 

Yet though thou wear’st the glory of the sky, 

Wilt thou not keep the same beloved name, 

The same fair thoughtful brow, and gentle eye, 
Lovelier in heaven’s sweet climate, yet the same? 

Shalt thou not teach me, in that calmer home, 

The wisdom that I learned so ill in this— 

The wisdom which is love—till I become 
Thy fit companion in the world of bliss? 




Oli VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 291 

THE DEPARTED PRESERVE THEIR INTEGRITY. 


PROF. A. P. PEABODY, D. D. 



HEN I think of the kindred and friends who may welcome 
me to heaven, I want to think not of any precise number of 
angelic beings, alike except in their degrees of attainment, 
if* —I would bring them up in their individual forms and 
features, in those delicate hues and blendings of character, 
those traits of loveliness to be felt, yet not described, which 
linger always on our memories. And as their tones of voice 
still dwell upon our hearts, and their countenances are ever living 
there, why need we suppose that even these in their individuality 
have passed away, that is, so far as the soul gave them shape and 
utterance ? The tongue, the face, is indeed forever cold and dead. 
But in some form or way spirits must be manifest to, and hold con¬ 
verse with, one another. Why, then, may not some likeness to the 
earthly countenance and voice (at least sq far as to produce sameness 
of impression) survive in whatever form of life the translated spirit 
may assume, so that, when friends meet friends in heaven, there may 
be something in their so widely different mode of existence to recall 
even the looks and tones through which they had known each other 
here ?. 


He, with his guide, the farther fields attained, 

Where, severed from the rest, the warrior souls remained. 
Fidens he met, with Meleager’s race, 

The pride of armies, and the soldier’s grace; 

And pale Adrastus, with his ghastly face. 

Of Trojan chiefs he viewed a numerous train, 

All much lamented, all in battle slain— 

Glaucus and Medon, high above the rest 
Antenor’s sons, and Ceres’ sacred priest, 

And proud Idceus, Priam’s charioteer, 

Who shakes his empty reins, and aims his airy spear. 

The gladsome ghosts in circling troops attend, 

And with unwearied eyes behold their friend; 

Delight to hover near, and long to know 
What business brought him to the realms below. 


Virgil. 







292 


THE HOME BEYOND 


MORE FRIENDS IN HEAVEN THAN ON EARTH. 



'HERE is a period of mortal life at which the friends who 
are gone, begin to bear a large proportion to those who re¬ 
main, if they do not even outnumber them. The Christian 
man beholds the heavenly company increase of those who 
wait for him. He finds himself living more in the past and 
less in the future time of his earthly life. He loses not his 
cheerfulness, but he is continually acquiring thoughtfulness. The 
bonds between heaven and him are multiplying. His faithful eye be¬ 
holds, and his faithful heart records the lengthening train of the 
departed. And not only his nearest relatives and most intimate 
friends are on the register of his spirit, but those whose sweetness 
and worth he has known from the communion of a few years or 
months, or even from a few casual meetings, are all added to the list 
as they put on immortality. Of these he thinks, and with these he 
converses, with increasing frequency, and with a pleasure which the 
unbelieving and the doubting cannot experience. As he lives on, the 
number of his earthly companions is every year decreasing, till per¬ 
haps they all go, and then what is there for him but to wait ? He 
will not grieve, but wait and hope. The departed are not a source of 
sorrow, but now his only solace and joy. In the cheerful words of an 
old poet, he may say, 


“ They all are gone into a world of light, 

And I alone sit lingering here; 

Their very memory is fair and bright, 

And my sad thoughts doth clear.” 

Rev. F. W. P. Greenwood, D. D. 



Ip this (Col. i. 28) be rightly interpreted, then it affords the mani¬ 
fest and necessary inference, that the saints in a future life will meet 
and be known again to one another; for how, without knowing again 
his converts, in their new and glorious state, could St. Paul desire or 
expect to present them at the last day ? 

Archdeacon William Paley, D. D. 










OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

JOY OF PASTOR AND PEOPLE IN HEAVEN. 


293 


Is it a joy too low for saints in heaven to meet, know and love ? 
What joy on earth is so pure and sweet as to bless others, or to be 
blest and feel grateful for good received ? How much more—how 
unspeakably more and purer must the joy be, which those feel in 
heaven, who have labored, prayed and wept together on earth, when 
they are at last safely landed together in realms of endless bliss! 

Such, Christian pastor, is thy heart’s delight, 

To serve thy God, and see thy people share 
His service, led by thee: with them how bright 
The joy to come, let holy Paul declare; 

A joy, a glory, and a crown of light, 

Which kings might envy, and exult to wear! 

Rev. H. Harbaugh, D. D. 


BELIEF OF THE HEBREWS. 


The Hebrews regarded life as a journey, as a pilgrimage on the 
face of the earth. The traveller, as they supposed, when he arrived 
at the end of his journey, which happened when he died, was received 
into the company of his ancestors, who had gone before him. Opin¬ 
ions of this kind (viz., that life is a journey, that death is the end of 
that journey, and that, when one dies, he mingles with the hosts who 
have gone before), are the origin and ground of such phrases as the 
following: “To be gathered to one’s people; to go to one’s fathers.’ 
This visiting of the fathers has reference to the immortal part, and is 
clearly distinguished from the mere burial of the body. 

John Arch. 


It is reasonable to believe that the saints shall know that they 
had such and such a relation to one another when they were on earth 
The father shall know that such a one was his child; the husband 
shall know that such a one was his wife; the spiritual guide shall 
know that such belonged to his flock; and so all other relations of 
persons shall be renewed and known in heaven 






* 




’ / 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE UPWARD PROCESSION. 


295 



HUS from Abel to Abraham; from him to Malacbi; from Christ 
to John, and from John till now, what a mighty stream of 
the Lord’s saints have been sweeping onwards and upwards 
from amongst every kindred and tongue and nation under 
Heaven! And they will all be there. Oh, what a mighty 
phalanx of patriarchs and prophets, apostles and evangel¬ 
ists, martyrs and confessors shall we behold, my brethren, when we 
get to Heaven; and what mighty volumes, of praise shall roll up¬ 
wards from that vast throng, to the throne of God! Timid women 
who for Christ alone were valiant; strong-minded, noble men, who 
endured reproach and contumely in the Master’s cause, and thought 
not even their lives dear unto them, if only by their sacrifice they 
might finish their course acceptably and win their crown, oh, what 
hosts of these shall we behold! Confessors of whom the world was 
not worthy! True men and women who endured with patience all 
that the ingenuity of the wicked, prompted by Satan, could do to 
their hurt—all the fiery darts that could be hurled against them: 
those barbed arrows of calumny, detraction and persecution that, 
must bring the quivering flesh away whenever you would extract 
them! 

There shall we see crowds from the poor and despised of earth 
—those who slept upon wretched pallets, dwelt in miserable hovels 
who day by day ate the bread of poverty, and by night watered 
their couch with tears, but whose sins were washed away in the 
ocean of the Redeemer’s blood—their hearts steadfast with God. 
There we shall see the afflicted and distressed, though no longer sick; 
the forlorn and the friendless; the despised and the outcast, but not 
of God—men and women who waded through the waters and forced 
their way through the fires to reach their crown, or who endured the 
biting pangs of penury and want, rather than accept the glittering 
wages, together with the dread retributions of sin. 

Rev. W. H. Coopeb D. D. 

’Tis sweet, as year by year we lose 
Friends out of sight, to muse 
How grows in Paradise our store. 





296 


THE HOME BEYOND 


REMEMBRANCE OE THE DEAD. 





E know the spot where lie 

Our sleeping dead—but where 
|"!a 7 ^ 1 ?Is that which cannot die— 

The soul? Lord is it there? 
The carrier pigeon brings 
A message ’neath his wings, 
From India’s distant shore, 

Sails pass from place to place, 
But from its narrow space, 

The soul returns no more. 



The infant at the breast, 

From its mother’s bosom torn, 
To its icy bed of rest, 

From its little cradle borne! 
All that we loved and mourn, 
Bear away part of us, 

From the dust murmuring cry— 
Ye who beheld the sky, 

Do ye still remember us? 


Lamartine. 


Remembrance, faithful to her trust, 

Calls thee in beauty from the dust; 

Thou comest in the morning light, 

Thou ’rt with me through the gloomy night, 
In dreams I meet thee as of old; 

Then thy soft arms my neck enfold, 

And thy sweet voice is in my ear, 

In every scene of memory dear. 

I see thee still. 

I see thee still; 

Thou art not in the grave confined— 

Death cannot chain the immortal mind; 

Let earth close o’er its sacred trust, 

But goodness dies not in the dust, 

Thee, O my daughter! ’tis not thee 
Beneath the coffin's lid I see; 

Thou to a fairer land art gone, 

There, let me hope, my journey done, 

To see thee still. 


Charles Sprague. 








Git VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


297 


MESSAGES TO THE OTHER SIDE. 


REV. DR. TALMAGE. 


AYE you any appreciation this evening of the good and glori¬ 
ous times your friends are having in heaven? How dif¬ 
ferent it is when they get news there of a Christian’s death 
from what it is here. It is the difference between embark- 
T afcion and coming into port. Everything depends upon 
I which side of the river you stand when you hear of a Chris¬ 

tian’s death. If you stand on this side of the river you mourn 
that they go. If you stand on the other side of the river, you re¬ 
joice that they come. Oh, the difference between a funeral on earth 
and a jubilee in heaven—between requiem here and triumphal march 
there—parting here and reunion there. Together ! Have you thought 
of it ? They are together. Not one of your departed friends in one 
land, and another in another land ; but together in different rooms 
of the same house—the house of many mansions. Together ! I never 
appreciated that thought so much as recently, when we laid away 
in her last slumber my sister Sarah. Standing there in the village 
cemetery, I looked around and said: “ There is father, there is 
mother, there is grandfather, there is grandmother, there are whole 
circles of kindred and I thought to myself. “ Together in the 
grave—together in glory.” I am so impressed with the thought that 
I do not think it is any fanaticism when some one is going from this 
world to the next if you make them the bearer of dispatches to your 
friends who ar6 gone, saying : “ Give my love to my parents, give 
my love to my children, give my love to my old comrades who are in 
glory, and tell them I am trying to fight the good fight of faith, and 
I will join them after a while.” I believe the message will be deliv¬ 
ered ; and I believe it will increase the gladness of those who are 
before the throne. Together are they, all their tears gone. No trouble 
getting good society for them. All kings, queens, princes, and 
princesses. In 1751, there was a bill offered in your English Parlia¬ 
ment, proposing to change the almanac so that the first of March 
should come immediately after the 18th of February, But, oh, what 
a glorious change in the calendar when all the years of your earthly 
existence are swallowed up in the eternal year of God! 





298 


THE HOME BEYOND 


WE SHALL KNOW ONE ANOTHER. 


When we come to behold the glorious majesty of God, we 
shall not only know our Savior Christ, and such as we were acquain¬ 
ted within this world, but all the elect and chosen people of God, 
who have been from the beginning of the world. When we are once 
come into the heavenly Jerusalem, we shall, without doubt, both 
seek and know all the holy and most blessed company of the patri¬ 
archs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs, with all others of the faithful. 
As we are all members of one body, whereof Jesus Christ is the Head f 
so shall we know one another, rejoice together, and be glad with one 
another. 


Thos. Becon. 



GONE—BUT NOT LOST. 


Sweet bud of earth’s wilderness, rifled and torn! 

Fond eyes have wept o’er thee, fond hearts still will mourn; 
The spoiler hath come, with his cold withering breath, 

And the loved and the cherished lies silent in death. 

He felt not the burden and heat of the day! 

He has passed from this earth, and its sorrows, away, 

With the dew of the morning yet fresh on his brow:_ 

Sweet bud of earth’s wilderness, where art thou now? 

And oh! do you question, with tremulous breath, 

Why the joy of your household lies silent in death? 

Do you mourn round the place of your perishing dust? 
Look onward and upward with holier trust! 

Who cometh to meet him, with light on her brow? 

What angel form greets him so tenderly now! 

’Tis the pure sainted mother, springs onward to bear 
The child of her love from this region of care! 


Mrs. Ellen Stone. 



I am, therefore, more than fully persuaded, that we shall know 
in heaven our parents and our friends, and generally all the persons 
whom we have known here below. 


Rev. Cha.rles Drelincourt. 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE. 


290 


Friend after friend departs; 

Who hath not lost a friend? 

There is no union here of hearts, 

That finds not here an end; 

Were this frail world our final rest, 

Living or dying none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time, 

Beyond the reign of death, 

There surely is some blessed clime, 

Where life is not a breath; 

Nor love’s affections transient fire, 

Whose sparks fly upward and expire. 

There is a world above, 

Where parting is unknown; 

A long eternity of love, 

Formed for the good alone; 

And faith beholds the dying here, 

Translated to that glorious sphere. 

Thus star by star declines, 

’Till all are passed away, 

As morning high, and higher shines, 

To pure and perfect day; 

Nor sink those stars in empty night, 

But hide themselves in heaven’s own light. 

Montgomery. 



WHAT A MEETING IN HEAVEN. 

What a meeting on the other shore! If we could see there this 
morning how our hearts would enlarge. Multitudes around the 
throne to day. I am charmed with that thought, There’s a central 
figure I am more charmed with—the Man on the Throne. His king¬ 
dom shall triumph over all. The time will come when every knee 
shall bow and every tongue confess. 

I think of the men gone before—fathers, mothers, little children 
—that cloud up yonder. I think I can see them. Oh, there is a cloud 
of witnesses. I urge on my way, run my race, ever looking to Jesus, 
who is alone the finisher of faith. Oh, may this audience all follow 
Jesus and be a part of that grand gathering that shall meet on that 
other shore! Bishop M. Simpson, D. D. 





300 


THE HOME BEYOND 

WE MOURN NOT WITHOUT HOPE. 


Let those mourn without measure, who mourn without hope. 
The husbandman does not mourn, when he casts his seed into the 
ground. He expects to receive it again, and more. The same hope 
have we, respecting our friends who have died in faith. You do not 
lament over your children or friends, while slumbering on their beds. 
Consider death as a sleep from which they shall certainly awake. 
E ven a heathen philosopher could say that he enjoyed his friends, ex 
pecting to part with them; and parted with them, expecting to see 
them again. And shall a heathen excel a Christian in bearing af¬ 
fliction with cheerfulness. Lavel. 


I need not say to myself, or my dear friends who are in the 
Lord, Quo nunc abilis in loco ? We know where they are, and how 
employed. There I humbly trust my dear Mary is waiting for me 
and in the Lord’s own time I hope to join with her and all the re¬ 
deemed in praising the Lamb, once upon the cross, now upon the 
throne of glory. Rev. John Newton. 


Very soon they who are separated will be reunited, and there 
will appear no trace of the separation. They who are about to set 
out upon a journey, ought not to set themselves far distant from 
those who have gone to the same country a few days before. Life 
is like a torrent; the past is but a dream; the present, while we are 
thinking of it, escapes us, and is precipitated into the same abyss 
that has swallowed up the past; the future will not be of a different 
nature; it will pass as rapidly. A few moments, and a few more, and 
all will be ended; what has appeared long and tedious, will seem 
short when it is finished. Fenelon. 



My little one, my fair one, thou canst not come to me, 

But nearer draws the numbered hour, when I shall go to thee; 
And thou, perchance, with seraph smile, and golden harp in hand, 
May’st come the first to welcome me, to our Emanuel’s land. 


R. Hun. 





OK VIEWS OF HEAVEN, 
HEAVEN A PLACE OF JOY. 


301 


How can the place of departed spirits fail to be a place of joy to 
the Christian ? for there he shall meet all those pious relatives and 
friends whom heaven indulgent gave to him awhile, and heaven 
mysterious soon resumed again. 

Rev. S. S. Schmacker, D. D 


Death separates, but it can never disunite those who are bound 
together in Christ Jesus. To them, death in his power of an endless 
separation, is abolished. It is no more death, but a sweet departure, 
a journey from earth to heaven. Our children are still ours. We are 
still their parents. We are yet one family—one in memory—one in 
hope—one in spirit. Our children are yet with us, and dwell with 
us in our sweetest, fondest recollections. We too are yet with them 
in the bright anticipations of our reunion with them, in the glories 
of the upper sanctuary. We mingle together indeed no more in sor¬ 
row and in pain, 

But we shall join love’s buried ones again 
In endless bands, and in eternal peace. 

Rev. Thomas Smyth, D. D. 

ooo 

RECOGNITION NOT A FANCY. 

It is no dreaming fancy to expect, that in another world we 
shall preserve our identity—shall know and be known even as in 
this. Let the mourner in Sion continue “ patient in well-doing;” 
“ looking for and hasting to the coming of the Lord,” when shall 
begin the reunion of kindred spirits, whom in this world death had 
separated. Parent to child, sister to brother, husband to wife, 
friend to friend, shall then be restored—a blessed communion of 
saints, whom nor sin nor sorrow shall sever more. 

Rev. John James, D. D. 




302 


THE HOME BEYOND 

WE SHALL KNOW EACH OTHER IN HEAVEN. 



HAT it should ever have been doubted whether the inhabi¬ 
tants of the spiritual world recognize each other in that 
abode, is but an example of the wide influence of unbelief, 
suggesting the strangest dimness wherever the Scriptures 
had not spoken in the most explicit words, even though 
the obvious reason for which the words had not been 
spoken was, that to speak them was needless. Why should 
not the departed recognize and be recognized ? How can their very 
nature and being be so utterly changed that they should be able to 
exist in the same world, to remember, and to be a general assembly, 
a church, a society, without recognition? If the future life is the se¬ 
quel, and result, and retribution of the present, how can recognition 
fail ? Not a step can we proceed, not a conception can we form, not 
a statement of divine revelation can we clearly embrace in our con¬ 
templations of the future life, without admitting or involving the ne¬ 
cessity of mutual recognition as well as mutual remembrance and af¬ 
fection. Were Moses and Elias unknown to each other? Did the 
Martyrs below the altar utter the same cry, without knowing the 
history of their companions, each a stranger amongst strangers? 
Was Abraham a stranger to Lazarus, or was Lazarus seen and known 
by the rich man only ? Could those who watch for souls render ac¬ 
count for them with joy or grief, and yet not know their doom ? Could 
Christian converts be the “ glory and joy” of an Apostle at the com¬ 
ing of the Lord if He knew them not? Could the Patriarchs be seen 
in the kingdom of God by none but those who should be shut 
out? All proceeds on the supposition of just such knowledge 
there as here. It is probable, indeed, that the human soul must 
always clothe itself with form, even in the separate state; and 
such a form would bear the same impress which had been given 
to the mortal body. There is no extravagance in the wish of 
Dr. Randolph to know Cowper above from his picture here, or 
in the same thought as expressed in the verses of Southey on 
the portrait of Heber. Rt. Rev. Geo. Burgess D. D. 


303 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

BELIEF OF MELANCTHON, CRUCIGER, OLEVIANUS, 
SCALIGER. 



j[ELANCHTON,a few days before his death, told Camerarius 
that he trusted their friendship should be cultivated and 
perpetuated in another world. Cruciger, another of the 
school of theReformers, spoke, in his last hours, of meeting 
and recognition. Casper Olevianus, a divine of Heidel¬ 
berg, who has the honor of sharing with Ursinus the 
anthorship of the celebrated Heidelberg Catechism—the 
symbol of all the Reformed churches in all lands and languages where 
the Reformed faith is held, when his son had been summoned to see 
him before he shohld die, sent to him also the message, that “ he 
need not hurry: they should see one another in eternal life.” So 
Joseph Scaliger Bpoke of “soon meeting and embracing, no longer 
the subjects of age and infirmity.” 

Rt. Rev. Geo. Burgess D. D. 



THE QUESTION OF RECOGNITION UNNECESSARY. 

It has been asked whether, in this blessed abode, the saints 
will know one another? One should think that the question was 
unnecessary, as the answer naturally presents itself to every 
man’s mind; and it could only have occurred to some dreaming 
theologian, who, in his airy speculations, has soared far beyond 
the sphere of reason and common sense. Who can doubt whether 
the saints will know one another? What reason can be given why 
they should not? Would it be any part of their perfection to have all 
their former ideas obliterated, and to meet as strangers in the other 
world? Would it give us a more favorable notion of the assembly in 
heaven, to suppose it to consist of a multitude of unknown individuals, 
who never hold communication with each other; or by some inexplic¬ 
able restraint are prevented, amidst an intimate intercourse, from 
mutual discoveries? Or have they forgotten what they themselves 
were, so that they cannot reveal it to their associates ? What would be 
gained by this ignorance no man can tell; but we can tell what would be 
lost by it. Rev. Dr. Dick. 











304 


THE HOME BEYOND 

WE SHALL KNOW EACH OTHER IN GLORY, 


REV. J. EDMONSON. 


E know each other in the present world. All human 
beings have certain distinctive marks by which they are 
known : and will these be lost in the world to come? Will 
our knowledge of each other be less perfect, in a world of 
perfection, than it is in this imperfect state. It cannot be 
ascertained how we may be known to each other there; 
but if we examine the subject on the principles of analogy, we cannot 
doubt the fact. There is a high probability that we shall then know 
all whom we have known before, by some resemblance of their for¬ 
mer appearance, which they may still retain. There is a general 
likeness in the countenances of men, accompanied with such amazing 
variety, that there never were two faces exactly alike, since the world 
was made; but when any one is well known by his freinds and ac¬ 
quaintances,it is not an easy matter to forget him. He is remembered 
when absent; and is not forgotten after he has been removed by 
death. 

And why may we not suppose that the spirits of men, when 
they are seen by spirits, will be recognised by some identical appear¬ 
ance ? Will the peculiarities of their respective forms be so far changed, 
that they cannot be known to those who knew them in the body, and 
who conversed with them in the flesh ? It has been supposed by 
physiognomists, that every feature of man arises from some peculiar 
property in his soul; and if this be true, that property will appear 
conspicuously after he has laid aside his body. And after his resur¬ 
rection, he will still retain that peculiarity in external appearance 
which he had on earth. And if this reasoning be correct, we shall 
most assuredly know each other, both before and after the resur¬ 
rection of the dead. 

Is it possible to lose a recollection of our dearest friends in a 
world of perfection? This implies a contradiction ; and he who 
attempts to prove it, must affirm that we know our friends in a state 
of comparative ignorance, but that we shall be for ever unknown to 
each other when we are perfected in knowledge. Recollections of 
persons and things, in ages that have passed away, will be one source 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


305 


of eternal blessedness ; and to be deprived of this would cut off that 
stream of pleasure, which will be enjoyed in the happy junction of 
all the wise and good of every age and nation. 

But if we shall be wholly unacquainted with those pious per¬ 
sons who have lived on earth, our knowledge will be limited within a 
very narrow circle ; and their society will not afford us that pleasure 
which we now anticipate. It has always been considered, that a 
knowledge of men and things is a high attainment ; and shall we be 
ignorant either of the one or the other, when we live in a world of 
light and glory ? Will all be strangers and unknown to each other in 
the heavenly society ? The idea is extremely absured ; and should be 
banished from the mind of every intelligent man. The question 
how we shall know each other is unnecessary, and cannot be resolved; 
but if we possess this knowledge in the present world, surely it will 
be continued in a higher state. 

Lazarus was known in heaven. The angels that carried him to 
the bosom of Abraham knew him well. They had seen him in abject 
poverty, covered with sores, and shamefully neglected. They saw 
him in the hour of death ; and they saw him in glory. And if he 
were known to them, when advanced to the heavenly feast, and 
clothed with honor, was he not known to others ? Abraham knew 
him, mentioned his former name, and stated his sufferings on earth. 
He was greatly changed, but still appeared as the identical person 
who lay at the gate of the rich man. And it is highly probable that 
a vast concourse of celestial spirits, who witnessed his arrival, knew 
who he was, and what he had suffered, If this be allowed, it proves a 
great deal : for if one knew him, why not others also, when they 
saw him lodged in Abraham’s bosom ? 

Pastors will know their flocks in heaven ; and the flocks will 
know their pastors. This fact is stated by the apostle Paul, in words 
that cannot be misunderstood by any impartial reader Thus, he 
informed the Thessalonian believers of his hope and joy in meeting, 
them at the coming of Jesus : “ For what is our hope, or joy, or crown 
of rejoicing? are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus 
Christ at his coming? For ye are our glory and joy,” 1 Thess. ii, 19, 
20. But if ministers cannot know their flocks when Jesus comes 
how can they joy in them at his appearance ? Or how can they be a 
crown of rejoicing, if they are totally unknown to their pious and 
holy instructors ? 


306 


THE HOME BEYOND 


We shall be presented to God, in a state of perfection, by those 
ministers who have warned us, and taught us in all wisdom. Hence 
they make this appeal to their converts, “ Christ in you the hope of 
glory ; whom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every 
man, in all wisdom; that we may present every man,perfect in Christ 
Jesus,” Col. i, 28. And will they not know those whom they present 
to their God and Savior ? The steady perseverance of saints inspires 
a minister with confidence, because he will meet them with joy at the 
coming of Jesus. “ And now, little children, abide in himthat 
when he shall appear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed 
before him at his coming,” 1 John ii, 28. And can this be realized 
if they do not know their flocks ? 

But if the pastor know his flock, will not the flock know their 
pastor ? And will not their joy be mutual when they meet in the 
heavenly fold? Will they not then recollect all those refreshing sea¬ 
sons which they enjoyed together, in the green pastures of divine 
ordinances, while they dwelt on earth ? But all this implies a recol¬ 
lection of persons and things in the present world, when we are with 
Jesus in a state of immortal joy and felicity. With what unknown 
pleasure shall we behold those teachers who cared for our souls, and 
who showed us the way of salvation! But all the praise, and all the 
glory, will be given to God and the Lamb. 

We may argue this question from that fellowship of saints 
which is begun on earth, but perfected in heaven. Can this be carried 
into effect, if they do not know each other,when they meet in glory ? 
It is affirmed of our present state, that “ if we walk in the light, as he 
is in the light,we have fellowship one with another,” 1 John i,7. And 
will not this continue, and increase, when we meet in the New Jerusa¬ 
lem ? Shall we not know those holy and happy souls with whom we 
have held sweet communion on earth, and with whom we shall enjoy 
a delightful union in heaven ? With them we have fought and com 
quered. 

Our souls, united by love, have jointly offered up praise and 
thanksgiving to God ; and we have worshiped him together in spirit 
and in truth in his holy sanctuary. Will all these things, with all our 
pious conversations, be buried in eternal oblivion, when we stand 
before the Lord, and worship him in his holy temple on Mount Zion ? 
The idea is extremely absurd. Says Dr. Price : “ Is it possible that 
we should be happy hereafter in the same seats of joy, under the 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


307 


perfect government, and as members of the same heavenly society, 
and yet remain strangers to one another ? Shall we be together with 
Christ, and yet not with one another ? Being in the same happy state 
with our present virtuous friends and relatives, will they not be ac¬ 
cessible to us ? And if accessible, shall we not fly to them, and mingle 
hearts and souls again ? ” 



I SHALL KNOW HIM. 


That each, who seems a separate whole, 
Should move his rounds, and, fusing all 
The skirts of self again, should fall 
Remerging in the general Soul, 

Is faith as vague as all unsweet? 

Eternal form shall still divide 
The eternal soul from all beside, 

And I shall know him when we meet. 

And we shall sit at endless feast, 
Enjoying each the other’s good; 

What vaster dream can hit the mood 
Of Love on earth? He seeks at least 

Upon the last and sharpest height, 

Before the spirit fades away, 

Some landing-place, to clasp and say, 
Farewell! We lose ourselves in light!” 


Tennyson. 



Oh, weep not for the dead! 

Rather, oh! rather give the tear 
To those that darkly linger here, 

When all besides are fled. 

Weep for the spirit withering 
In its cold, cheerless sorrowing; 

Weep for the young and lovely one, 
That ruin darkly revels on; 

But never be a tear-drop shed 

For them, the pure enfranchised dead. 


Unknown. 



308 THE HOME BEYOND 

HOW SHALL WE KNOW EACH OTHER IN HEAVEN? 


REV. J. EDMONSON, D. D. 


IPffND h° w stall we know those holy persons who lived in for- 
mer ages, and in distant climes? The answer is easy : In- 
telligent spirits, who knew them well, will make them 
known to us in friendly conversations. How did the three 
disciples of our Lord know Enoch and Elijah, when they 
I appeared with him on the mount? It is probable that they 

received information from their Master, to whom those 
departed saints were well known ; and in the heavenly world it may 
be said to us, This is Abraham, that is Job, and that is Daniel. And 
all those saints, when once made known to us, will be known for 
ever. If we were to travel to any civilized region of this world, 
should we not be introduced to the inhabitants of the place, by some 
friendly person who might know them ? And are saints less courteous 
in the heavenly world than men on earth ? In that world of felicity, 
holy spirits of every rank take pleasure in communicating happiness; 
and our happiness will be greatly augmented by a knowledge of all 
the inhabitants of that place, where we shall live to all eternity. 

And will not the Lord of all worlds, who has connected our 
happiness with the sacred ties of friendship, appoint certain spirits 
to discover to us those holy friends whom we knew before, and with 
whom we shall live foreever ? Angels have had charge of every good 
man on earth, from the beginning of the world, and they know every 
one by name. And will not those lovely spirits discover the saints 
to each other ? And shall we not receive from extensive information 
of those good men to whom they ministered in the present world? 
And the saints of former ages, who are far advanced in knowledge 
may be appointed to instruct their younger brethren. The divine 
Being, who knows all things, employs instruments and agents to in¬ 
struct men; and why may he not pursue a similar plan, in his wise 
government of angels and saints, in the world of glory? 

We do not pretend to explain how those happy spirits instruct 
each other. It has not been revealed; and it is a subject which our 
limited powers cannot discover. For we are unacquainted with their 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


309 


language, their organs of speech, and their method of communicat¬ 
ing ideas; but it must be absurd to suppose that they are less perfect 
in these things than mortal men in the present state of comparative 
ignorance. No doubt they excel, in every method that can be used, 
of communicating thought from one intellectual being to another. 
And can they be ignorant of each other? Will nothing be said, by 
any intellectual spirit, to bring to remembrance persons and things of 
former times ? Scripture and reason are both at variance with this 
absurd opinion. 

But what sweet and edifying conversations may be expected be¬ 
tween kindred spirits in that happy world! and how amazingly will 
these be heightened by a perfect knowledge of each other, when all 
have passed through this world of sin and sorrow! One will ever be 
ready to teach another, and all will rejoice in the acquisition of 
knowledge. The mind of every one will be enlarged; truth will be 
unfolded; and all will be innocent and holy. The joy arising from a 
knowledge of each other will be mutual; and to know and be made 
known will produce pleasure that cannot be expressed. But if former 
things are to be forgotten, and if we are to remain strangers to each 
other, our bliss will be imperfect. The ties of friendship in this case 
will be weakened; and all its peculiar enjoyments considerably 
abridged. 



THE BELIEF OF THE FATHERS. 


All the ancient and pious fathers agreed to this. bt. Cyprian 
owns, that our parents, brethren, children, and near relations, expect 
us in heaven, and are solicitous for our good. St. Jerome comforts 
a good lady on this account, that we shall see our friends, and know 
them. St Augustine endeavors to mitigate the sorrow of an Italian 
widow with this consideration, that she shall be restored to her hus¬ 
band, and behold and know him. 



Dr. Edwards. 



310 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE DEPARTED REMEMBER. 



ANY suppose a certain kind of continuance of their think¬ 
ing faculties after death, but do not believe that with 
these faculties they will remember their earthly existence. 
They dream of an existence that is entirely new, which is 
better than the present, but upon which this life has no 
influence, and with which it has no connection. This 
whole idea amounts to just the same as entire annihilation at death; 
for if I cannot recollect this life—its fortunes and misfortunes, my 
wife and children, my friends, my weaknesses and my good deeds, 
—in short, nothing at all, then I am no more the same /, no more 
the same person, but I will be a being entirely new! The Lord in 
mercy preserve us from such a future state! But thanks to his name 
forever, that the Bible, and the common sense and feeling of men in 
all ages and in all places, teach directly the contrary. 

Stilling. 


HEAVEN AND EARTH. 


There are no shadows where there is no sun; 

There is no beauty where there is no shade; 

And all things in two lines of glory run, 

Darkness and light, ebon and gold inlaid. 

God comes among us through the shroud of al>. 

And His dim path is like the silvery wake 
Left by your pinnace on the mountain lake, 

Fading and reappearing here and there. 

The lamps and veils, through heaven and 
Earth that move, 

Go in and out, as jealous of their light, 

Like sailing stars upon a misty night. 

Death is the shade of coming life; and Love 
Y earns for her dear ones in the holy tomb, 

Because bright things are better seen in gloom. 

F. W. Faber. 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

BUT A LITTLE WHILE. 


311 



> T is yet but a little while, and we shall be delivered from the 
‘ burden and the conflict, and, with all those who have pre- 
ceded us in the righteous struggle enjoy the deep raptures 
of a Mediator’s presence. Then re-united to the friends 
with whom we took sweet counsel upon earth, we shall re- 

• j C ° Unt OUr toi1, ° nIy to frighten our ecstacy ; and call to 
mind the tug and the din of war, only that with a more bounding 
throb and a richer song, we may feel and celebrate the wonders of 
redemption, 

Nevill. 


FRIENDS NOT LOST. 


Thou hast lost thy friend:—say, rather, thou hast parted with 
him. That is properly lost which is past all recovery, which we are 
out of hope to see any more. It is not so with this friend thou 
mournest for: he is but gone home a little before thee; thou art fol¬ 
lowing him; you two shall meet in your Father’s house, and enjoy 
each other more happily than you could have done here below. 

Rev. Robert Hall. 


THE SEPARATION SHORT. 

I wonder at the weakness of our minds, that they should be so 
much depressed with this short separation; for these very scriptures 
assure us we shall meet with them again; for they and we being with 
the Lord, we must be with each other. What a delightful thought 
is this! when we run over the long catalogue of excellent friends, 
which we are rash to say we have lost, to think, each of us, I shall 
be gathered to my people; to those whom my heart still owns under 
that character, with an affection which death could not cancel, nor 
these years of absence erase. 


Dr. Philip Doddridge. 







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OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

THE PLEASING HOPE OF RECOGNITION. 


313 


ET me be thankful for the pleasing hope that though God 
loves my child too well to permit it to return to me, he 
will ere long bring me to it. And then that endeared 
paternal affection, which would have been a cord to tie 
me to earth, and have added new pangs to my removal 
from it,will be as a golden chain to draw me upwards, and 
add one farther charm and joy even to paradise itself. Was this my 
desolation ? this my sorrow ? to part with thee for a few days, that 
I might receive thee forever, (Philam., v 15) and find thee as thou 
art ? It is for no language but that of heaven, to describe the sacred 
joy which such a meeting must occasion. 

Dr. Doddridge. 



Oh blissful scene! where severed hearts 
Renew the ties most cherished; 

Where naught the mourned and mourner parts; 

Where grief with life is perished. 

Oh! nought do I desire so well, 

As here to die, and there to dwell! 

R. Huie. 



A WELL FOUNDED HOPE. 


My hope is that I shall shortly leave this valley of tears, and be 
free from all fevers and pain; and which will be a more happy condi¬ 
tion, I shall be free from sin, and all the temptations and anxieties 
that attend it; and this being past, ± shall dwell in the New Jeru¬ 
salem; dwell there with men made perfect; dwell where these eyes 
shall see my Master and Savior Jesus; and with him see my dear 
mother, and all my relations and friends. But I must die, or not 
come to that happy place. George Herbert. 








314 


THE HOME BEYOND 


RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN A FACT, 


REV. WM. MORLEY PUNSHON, D. D. 


EATEN is not a solitude; it is a peopled city, a city 
in which there are no strangers, no homeless, no poor^ 
where one does not pass another in the street without 
greeting, where no one is envious of another’s minstrelsy or 
of another’s more brilliant crown. When God said in the 
ancient Eden, “ It is not good for man to be alone,” there 
was a deeper signification in the words than could be ex¬ 
hausted or explained by the family tie. It was the declaration of an 
essential want which the Creator in his highest wisdom Has impressed 
upon the noblest of His works. That is not life—you don’t call that 
life—where the hermit in some moorland glade drags out a solitary 
existence, or where the captive in some cell of bondage frets and 
pines unseen ? That man does not understand solitude. 

Life, all kinds of life, tends to companionship, and rejoices in it, 
from the larvae and buzzing insect cloud, up to the kingly Hon and 
the kinglier man. It is a social state into which we are to be intro¬ 
duced, as well as a state of consciousness. Not only, therefore, does 
the Savior pray for His disciples, “ Father, I will that those whom 
thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold 
my glory,” but those who are in that heavenly recompense are said 
to have come “ to the general assembly and church of the first-born 
written in heaven.” Aye, and better than that, and dearer to some 
of us, “ to the spirits of just men made perfect.” 

The question of the recognition of departed friends in heaven, 
and special and intimate reunion with them, Scripture and reason 
enable us to infer with almost absolute certainty. It is implied in 
the fact that the resurrection is a resurrection of individuals, that it 
is this mortal that shall put on immortality. It is implied in the fact 
that heaven is a vast and happy society; and it is implied in the fact 
there is no unclothing of nature that we possess, only the clothing 
upon it of the garments of a brighter and more glorious im¬ 
mortality. 






Oli VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


315 


Take comfort, then, those of you in whose history the dearest 
charities of life have been severed by the rude hand of death, those 
whom you have thought about as lost are not lost, except to present 
sight. Perhaps even now they are angel watchers, screened by a 
kindly Providence from everything about, that w r ould give you pain; 
but if you and they are alike, in Jesus, and remain faithful to the 
end, doubt not that you shall know them again. It were strange, 
don’t you think, if amid the multitude of earth’s ransomed ones that 
we are to see in heaven, we should see all but those we most fondly 
and fervently long to see ? Strange, if in some of our walks along the 
golden streets, we never happen to light upon them % Strange, if we 
did not hear some heaven song, learned on earth, trilled by some 
clear ringing voice that we have often heard before ? 



The saints on earth, when sw r eetly they converse, 1 
And the dear favors of kind heaven rehearse, 

Each feels the other's joys, both doubly share 
The blessings which devoutly th«^ compare, 

If saints such mutual joy feel here below, 

When they each others heavenly foretastes know * 

What joys transport them at each other’s sight, 

When they shall meet in empyreal height! 

Friends, even in heaven, one happiness would miss, 

Should they not know’ each other when in bliss. 

Bishop Ken 



Our first-born and our only babe bereft! 

Too fair a flower was she for this rude earth! 

The features of her beauteous infancy 
Have faded from me, like a passing cloud, 

Or like the glories of an evening sky; 

And seldom hath my tongue pronounced her name 
Since she was summoned to a happier sphere. 

But that dear love, so deeply wounded then, 

I in my soul with silent faith sincere 
Devoutly cherish till we meet again. 


Southey. 






r> : ' 


4V »» 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
RECOGNITION NO DAY-DREAM. 


317 


I count the hope no day-dream of the mind, 

No vision fair of transitory hue, 

The souls of those whom once on earth we knew, 

And lov’d, and walk’d with in communion kind, 

Departed hence, again in heaven to find. 

Such hope to nature’s sympathies is true; 

And such, we deem, the holy word to view 
Unfolds; an antidote for grief designed, 

One drop from comfort’s well. ’Tis true we read 
The Book of life: But if we read amiss, 

By God prepared fresh treasures shall succeed 
To kinsmen, fellows, friends, a vast abyss 
Of joy; nor aught the longing spirit need 
To fill its measure of enormous bliss. 

Bishop Mant. 

LOVE INDESTRUCTIBLE. 


They sin who tell us love can die; 

With life all other passions fly, 

All others are but vanity. 

In heaven ambition cannot dwell; 

Nor avarice in the vaults of hell; 

Earthly these passions of the earth, 

They perish where they have their birth • 

But love is indestructible. 

Its holy flame forever burneth, 

From heaven it came, to heaven returneth; 

Too oft on earth a troubled guest, 

At times deceived, at times opprest, 

It here is tried and purified, 

Then hath in heaven its perfect rest. 

It soweth here in toil and care, 

But the harvest time of love is there. 

Oh! when a mother meets on high 
The babe she lost in infancy, 

Hath she not then, for pains and fears, 

The day of woe, the watchful night, 

For all her sorrows, all her tears, 

An over-payment of delight? 

Robert Southey. 









318 


THE HOME BEYOND 
HEATHEN VIEWS OF RECOGNITION. 


KEY. W. H. COOPER, D. D. 



HE philosophers of ancient Greece and Rome did not look 
upon their departed friends as lost. They believed that 
death only separated them from each other for a time ; that 
soon they should meet, in more happy reunion, in the 
realms of Hades. How they became impressed with this 
notion, it were useless to enquire; as to the fact no one 
acquainted with classic story will deny it. The poets frequently 
alluded to it. Homer, the great Grecian, for example, represents the 
shades of his heroes as retaining all the characteristics, dispositions, 
habits, stations and peculiarities which belonged to them before death. 
(Book ii, line 48, &c). The Elysium and the Tartarus of the poets 
correspond respectively to the Paradise and the Hell of our Sacred 
Scriptures, or rather, according to Dr. Campbell, as quoted by Bishop 
Hobart, the prison of Hades wherein criminals are kept until the 
General Judgment. Cicero says : “ O glorious day ! when I shall 
retire from this low and sordid scene, to associate with the divine 
assembly of departed spirits ; and not with those only whom I have 
just mentioned, but with my dear Cato that best of sons and most 
valuable of men ! ” If, says Socrates, the common expression be true 
that death conveys us to those regions which are inhabited by the 
spirits of departed men, will it not be unspeakably happy to escape 
the hands of mere nominal judges to appear before * * such as 
Minos and Rhadamanthus, and to associate with all who have main¬ 
tained the cause of truth and rectitude ? * * Is it nothing to con¬ 
verse with Orpheus, and Homer, and Hesiod ? * * With what 

pleasure could I leave the world to hold communion with Palamedes, 
Ajax and others, who, like me, have had an unjust sentence pronoun¬ 
ced against them. The ancient Germans hoped to meet their friends 
again beyond death in a beautiful and peaceful valley. Antigione 
says,” Departing, I strongly cherish the hope that I shall be fondly 
welcomed by my father, and by my mother, and by my brother.” 
When the soul of Achilles is told of the glorious deeds of Neoptole- 
mus, he goes away taking mighty steps through the meadow of 
asphodel in joyfulness, because he had heard that his son was very 
illustrious. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

WHAT SHALL WE BE? 


219 


CHARLES J. P. SPITTA. 



HAT shall we be, and whither shall we go, 

When the last conflict of our life is o’er, 

And we return from wandering to and fro 
To our dear home through heaven’s eternal door. 
When we shake oft* the last dust from our feet, 
When we wipe off the last drop from our brow, 
And our departed friends once more shall greet, 
The hope which cheers and comforts us below? 


What shall we be, when we ourselves shall see, 
Bathed in the flood of everlasting light, 

And from all guilt and sin entirely free, 

Stand pure and blameless in our Maker’s sight: 
No longer from His holy presence driven, 

Conscious of guilt, and stung with inward pain; 
But friends of God and citizens of heaven, 

To join the ranks of His celestial train? 


What shall we be, when we drink in the sound 
Of heavenly music from the spheres above, 

When golden.harps <o listening hosts around 
Declare the wonders of redeeming love; 

When far and wide through the resounding air, 

Loud hallelujahs from the ransomed rise, 

And holy incense, sweet with praise and prayer, 

Is wafted to the Highest through the skies? 

What shall we be, when the freed soul can rise 
With unrestrained and bold aspiring flight 
To Him who by Ilis wondrous sacrifice 

Hath opened heaven, and scattered sin’s dark night; 
When from the eye of faith the thin veil drops, 

Like wreaths of mist before the morning’s rays, 

And we behold, the end of all our hopes, 

The Son of God in full refulgent blaze? 

What shall we be, when hand in hand we go 
With blessed spirits risen from the tomb, 

Where streams of living water softly flow, 

And trees still flourish in primeval bloom; 

Where in perpetual youth no cheek looks old 
By the sharp tooth of cruel time imprest, 

Where no bright eye is dimm’d, no heart grows cold 
No grief, no pain, no death invades the blest? 








320 


THE HOME BEYOND 


NOT STRANGERS TO EACH OTHER. 



E shall most certainly carry our natural affections with us 
into the Eternal W orld, or Heaven were no Heaven to us. 
Shall we all who have fought the good fight together here 
below, meet again as strangers on the golden streets ? Are 
there to be no rapturous recognitions there ? Shall Luther 
not know Melancthon? Shall Ridley not recognize Lati¬ 
mer? Will that sorrowing mother who wept such scalding 
tears when they hid away her little darling with face of marble be¬ 
neath that cold, damp mould, not clasp it to her arms again on reach¬ 
ing the farther shore? Shall I not meet my children? 
This is either fact or rhetoric, scripture or poetry. Which ? And if 
mere fiction—if, after all, there is to be no recognition of friends 
in Heaven, what mean those consolations which the minister of relig¬ 
ion professes to administer in the Master’s name to bursting hearts 
in their hour of sorrow ? If nothing, then he too is a sham and a 
fraud ; but if not such, there must in his estimate be recognition. 

Rev. W. H. Cooper. 


No night shall be in heaven ; no gathering gloom 
Shall o’er that glorious landscape ever come ; 

No tears shall fall in sadness o’er those flowers 
That breathe their fragrance through celestial bowers, 


No night shall be in heaven! forbid to sleep, 
These eyes no more their mournful vigils keep; 
Their fountains dried, their tears all wiped away, 
They gaze undazzled on eternal day. 

No night shall be in heaven no sorrow reign, 
No secret anguish, no corporeal pain, 

No shivering limbs, no burning fever there, 

No soul’s eclipse, no winter of despair. 


No night shall be in heaven, but endless noon; 

No fast declining sun, no waning moon ; 

But there the Lamb shall yield perpetual light 
’Mid pastures green and waters ever bright. 

No night shall be in heaven. Oh, had I faith, 

To rest in what the faithful witness saith, 

That faith should make these hideous phantoms flee, 
And leave no night henceforth on earth to me. 























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JACOB’S DREAM. 


t 


I 


t 

























































ANGELS THE ESCOET TO HEAVEN. 


RT. REV. SAMUEL TALLOWS, D. D. 



SAW in my boyhood days the remnant of that brave reg¬ 
iment (the Eoyal Guards) if I remember correctly, that 
participated in the battle of Waterloo. 

The left arm of each soldier was not in the regular 
sleeve of the uniform, for that hung empty by the side, 
but was in another sleeve specially made. I asked my 
father the reason. He replied, “ When the command was given to 
form into line, these men had not time to thrust both arms into the 
sleeves of their jackets, and so they rushed to the conflict with only 
the right arm covered, and performed immortal deeds.” And this 
was now their uniform. 

Gray headed, scarred veterans, they had helped change the des¬ 
tinies of the world on that fateful field. Honored now their position 
as they escorted the monarch of England on the grand procession 
days of the realm. 


323 












324 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Aye, honored too the sovereign, doubly honored, to be escorted 
by such men. 

I saw men who had been officers of all grades from Lieutenants 
to Major-Generals in our army, rush forth by one spontaneous im¬ 
pulse and take from his feet, as he entered the spacious hall in the 
city of Boston where the society of the Army of the Potomac was 
gathered, that gallant cavalry leader, who has just become the Gem 
eral of the army of the United States. On their shoulders they bore 
him amid the wildest huzzas and placed him on the platform, where 
stood General Joe. Hooker and a number of other distinguished heroes 
to give him a comrade’s soldierly welcome. 

But one day a band who had participated in battles that affected 
the destiny of worlds, was sent to escort a sovereign in triumph to 
the metropolis of the Universe. 

In joyous haste they sped on their mission. Round him gath¬ 
ered these squadrons of the skies. The men in the busy streets did 
not see them. Him they did see. A crowd had gathered round him 
as he lay there on the hard cold pavement. “ What is the matter ? 
Who is it?” was said. “It is only that beggar Lazarus,” was the 
reply from some one who knew him. The suffering, starving, spurned 
beggar whose only sustenance was the rich man’s crumbs, and whose 
only physicians the poor man’s dogs, was there dying upon the earth. 

Away with him to the Potter’s field, in the spirit of the modern 
rhymes, 

“Rattle his bones over the stones; 

He’s naught but a pauper, whom nobody owns.” 

But see! in their arms and on their shoulders, with shouts and 
songs, the Royal Guard of Heaven bear him in triumph home. That 
hand pierced on Calvary grasps his. A king and priest unto God, 
he now sits forever enthroned and crowned. 



Prophets, priests, 

Apostles, great reformers, all that served 
Messiah faithfully, like stars appear 
Of fairest beam : round them gather, clad 
In white, the vouchers of their ministry— 
The flock their care had nourished, 

Fed ana saved. 


Pollock. 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

THE INTEREST OF ANGELS IN MEN. 


325 


BISHOP CYRUS FOSS, D. D. 


^ HERE has been a great deal of curious speculation concern- 
HUsSl ing the relation of angels to worldly affairs. Some think 



that the angels dwell in the immediate presence of God, and 
sing His praise, and that during the intervals' of song they 
fly from star to star to refresh and regale their minds with 
the glories of the sky. Others think that the angels bear 


a direct relation to man, that they influence all of his affairs, and 
that everyone has his guardian angel who watches over him, and, to 
a certain extent, protects him. The truth respecting angels probably 
lies in the golden mean, half way between these two opinions. The 
angels are, doubtless, charged with ministering to man, and they 
are interested in all of his affairs. It may be that all of the stars are 
inhabited, and that Christ’s blood was shed for the remission of the 
sins of those who dwell in them, as well as of the people on the 
earth. It may be, too, that, after flying from star to star, the angels 
stoop to consider this little planet, and to set their thoughts upon it, 
because they are interested in God’s plan of salvation, and desire to 
inquire concerning it, and to see how it is regarded by man. The 
angels, then, must have a sympathetic curiosity about our salvation. 
They, like man, are the offspring of God, and, therefore, they 
have a fellow-feeling for men, and wish to inquire into their af¬ 
fairs. There is a similarity between men and angels, and this 
similarity enables angels to sympathize with men, and they do 
sympathize with them in all their struggles. They look upon each 
soul as the germ of souls to come, and they desire that each 
soul shall reach a state of elevated happiness. For thousands of 
years they have observed the actions of men; they know how much 
they can suffer and how much they can enjoy, and they look, there¬ 
fore, with great solicitude to see whether men are living so as to at¬ 
tain happiness or sorrow in the world to come. They also are ac¬ 
quainted with the great plan of salvation; they know that Christ 
died for men, and that if men will believe in Christ and come to 
Him, they will be saved, and that if they reject Him they will be 
lost beyond redemption. From heavenly heights the angels look 








326 


THE HOME BEYOND 


down upon a world struggling with sin, and they rejoice greatly 
whenever they are able to help men in their conflict with wickedness, 
and to assist in saving souls. They look to Calvary, and to the altar 
where the penitent is kneeling, and see that God is merciful, and 
that man can, if he will, be saved. And Oh! how earnestly they 
watch to see if more will come to Christ and avail themselves of His 
blood which was shed for them. If the pure angels are thus con¬ 
cerned for us, how much more should we sinful creatures be con¬ 
cerned for ourselves! May God help us to be concerned for our salv¬ 
ation and to come to Christ and be cleansed and purified in His 
blood! 


—- 

THE ANGELS DESIRE TO LOOK INTO SALVATION. 


BISHOP M. SIMPSON, D. D. 

They “ desire to look into it.” With all their powers of in¬ 
vestigation, with all their vast knowledge, here was a matter that 
they had not fathomed, and that they greatly desired to know. Yet 
scientists sometimes feel that they are so busy as to have no time to 
study this salvation. They are busy at studying the structures of 
crystals. Why angels know all about them. They saw the particles 
taking their positions. These men are busy in investigating the 
strata of the rocks. Why the angels saw the upheaval of the rocks 
which so diversified and distorted the strata. They were there at 
the formation of the earth and have witnessed all the changes. Only 
this last summer how deeply moved were these men in supposing 
that they had discovered an inter-Mercurial planet. If there be such 
a planet the angels have known it ages ago. The brightness of the 
sun does not baffle their vision. These men are busy unweaving the 
rays of light. The angels heard God when He spake, “ Let there be 
light.” All these things, which so deeply concern these scientists, 
are plain as A B C to these angels who, nevertheless, so desire to see 
into the plan of salvation, that subject which the scientists deem of 
so little importance. 









OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

WHY MEN DENY ANGELIC EXISTENCE. 


327 


IE tendency to deny angelic existence or angelic visitation 
is precisely the tendency to deny the existence and power 
of the invisible God. It is not given to man to see heaven- 
angels upon earth as in the olden time. 

But it is no argument that they do not exist and exert 
a powerful influence because unseen. We cannot see the 
electric fluid which outstrips the lightning in its fleetness, 
and yet thought employs it as a messenger and servant. 

The divine Savior is unseen. Does he not exist? Is he failing 
in fulfilling his promise? “Lo, I am always with you,even unto the 
end of the world!” because we do not see his blessed form as his 
disciples saw it, or heard his comforting w r ords as they heard them. 

Heaven and earth were once together in the old Jewish dispensa¬ 
tion. Are they further apart under the Christian dispensation ? Have 
angels ceased ascending and descending the ladder reaching from this 
world to the skies ? When did they cease and why ? 

Where is the ground for such belief in the Holy Scriptures? 
Where in the teachings of Beason ? Their work, it is true, has ended 
in making audibly known the revealed will of God. But who has 
the authority to assert that their mission as ministers of peace and 
mercy and helpfulness and suggestion and guidance and guardian¬ 
ship has ended? 

The Old Testament dispensation was one of types and shadows 
of literal and material things. The New Testament dispensation is 
a spiritual one. Not now in material forms but in a spiritual manner 
do these celestial visitants communicate with man. But that commu¬ 
nication is as real now as ever before. 

Bishop Fallows. 

For spirits when they please 
Can either sex assume, or both; so soft 
And uncompounded is their essence pure; 

Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, 

Nor founded on the brittle thread of bones, 

Like cumbrous flesh; but in what shape they choose, 

Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, 

Can execute their airy purposes, ' 

And works of love or enmity fulfil. Milton. 





328 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE POOR DYING GIRL. 



WENT once, to see a dying girl whom the world had roughly 
treated. She never had a father, she never knew her 
mother. Her home had been the poor-house, her couch a 
hospital-cot, and yet, as she had staggered in her weakness 
there, she had picked up a little of the alphabet, enough to 
spell out the New Testament, and she had touched the hem 
of the Master’s garment, and had learned the new song. And I 
never trembled in the presence of majesty as I did in the majesty 
of her presence as she came near the crossing. 4 Oh, sir ! ’ she said, 
God sends his angels. I have read in his word : “ Are they not 
ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to them who shall be heirs 
of salvation?” And when I am leaning in my cot, they stand about 
me on this floor ; and when the heavy darkness comes, and this poor 
side aches so severely, he comes, for he says, “ Lo, I am with you,” 
and I sleep, I rest.’” 

Rev. C. H Fowler, D. D. 


VIEWS OF WESLEY, OBERLIN AND CLARK. 


SSLEY has spoken of his own clear conviction that 
the strong impression on his own mind of the images 
of deceased friends at particular moments, was produced 
by their actual invisible presence. Oberlin supposed that 
for many years he enjoyed intimate communications with 
the dead. He says that the appearance, visible as well as 
invisible, of the dead, is possible, the instances related in the Bible 
are decisive. That they have ever appeared to the outward eye, 
except in those instances, can scarcely be proved from history, to the 
satisfaction of the skeptical or even the indifferent. That, however, 
the strongest sense of their influence as if they were present, has 
often been impressed upon the mind, in those states in which visible 
object have least control, is confirmd by ten thousand testimonies.” 

44 Our separation will not be a complete one. I feel that I shall 
often be with you. I cannot speak words to you but God, in his 
tenderness and loving kindness will permit me to suggest beautiful 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 329 

thoughts to you, and lead your minds heavenward. This idea is 

very present with me.”—B ishop D. W. Clark’s dying words to his 
family: 

“ Good-bye, papa; good-bye, mamma,” said a sweet eight-year 
old, dying in Baltimore, “ the angels have come to carry me to heaven ! ’ 
and sure enough, in a few moments the heavenly convoy were bearing 
his freed spirit upwards to the skies. 

The angels undoubtedly, wander away from the throne of 
Cod to this wordly sphere, to watch over the soul’s welfare of those 
they have left behind. It may be that some angels are hovering over 
the souls here to-night, to see if some one will decide in favor of the 
Lord’s side. 

D. L. Moody. 


CHILDKEN UNDER CARE OF ANGELS. 


HILDREN are under the care of God’s angels. ” Take 
f lkBMIr ' heed, how ye despise one of these little ones ; for in heaven 
their angels do always behold the face of my Father 
which is in heaven.” Christ is the Lord of angels, Jehovah 
/k of Hosts ; and he brings all his glorious retinue to serve 

i him in his office of Savior ; as the author of the Epistle 

to the Hebrews says of the angels: “ Are they not all ministering 
spirits sent forth to minister them who shall be heirs of salvation ? ” 
(Heb. i, 14). In the Old Testament, angels were declared to be 
guardians of God’s people (Ps. xci. 11, 12). Here our blessed 
Master confirms the truth. His angels are his people’s angels stand* 
ing ready before God to be sent upon any mission that concerns the 
welfare of his little ones ; little children and child-like believers. 
Some find here the doctrine of particular guardian angels ; whether 
that be true or not we are unprepared to say ; but, certainly, all 
Christ’s people are under the guardianship of Christ’s angels. There 
is not one of all the radiant winged spirits who do God’s will in 
providence, that is not ready to be a servant of those whom Jesus 
numbers among his little ones. 


Rev. Dr. Bethune. 






















































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


331 


EARTH-ANGELS AND HEAVEN-ANGELS. 


Saints are to each other angels in a blessed sense,—though 
their services and sympathies no more shut out those of angels than 
the light of the moon is destroyed by the light of the stars which at¬ 
tend him and mingle their light with his, to lessen, if they cannut 
entirely disperse the earth’s darkness. “ No,” exclaims the poet 
with emphasis, against the idea that earth has no angels, because 
their wings are not seen, and their songs are not heard— 

No: earth has angels, though their forms are moulded, 

But of such clay as fashions all below; 

Though harps are wanting, and bright pinions folded, 

We know them by the love-light on their brow. 

I have seen angels by the sick one’s pillow; 

Theirs was the soft tone and the soundless tread, 

When smitten hearts were drooping like the willow, 

They stood “ between the living and the dead.” 

And if my sight, by earthly dimness hindered, 

Beheld no hovering cherubim in air, 

I doubted not—for spirits know their kindred— 

They smiled upon the viewless watchers there. 

There have been angels in the gloomy prison; 

In crowded halls; by the lone widow’s hearth; 

And where they passed, the fallen have uprisen— 

The giddy paused, the mourner’s hope had birth. 

I have seen one whose eloquence commanding, 

Roused the rich echoes of the human breast; 

The blandishments of wealth and ease withstanding, 

That hope might reach the suffering and opprest. 

And by his side there moved a form of beauty, 

Strewing sweet flowers along his path of life, 

And looking up with meek and love-blent duty: 

I called her angel, but he called her wife. 

O! many a spirit walks the world pnheeded, 

That, when its veil of sadness is laid down, 

Shall soar aloft with pinions unimpeded, 

And wear its glory like a stany crown. 

Rev. H. Harbaugh, D. D. 



332 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE NATION'S GUARDIAN ANGELS. 



»N all theologies it is believed that every individual has a 
guardian angel sent forth to protect, to defend and to 
foster. The Jewish rabbis say that Adam’s guardian angel 
was named Razaiel, and that Abraham’s guardian angel 
was Raphael , and that Jacob’s guardian angel was Peniel. 

If every individual has a guardian angel, shall not a 
Christian nation have guardian angels ? Who shall they be ? 
Those who never knew us ? Those who never fought in behalf of our 
institutions ? Those who never suffered for our land ? No, no. De¬ 
scend, ye spirits of the martyred presidents , and ye mighty men of 
the councils of the past, ye who defended our country on land and 
<$ea. Descend, ye who preached and prayed as well as ye who fought! 
Mighty spirits of departed patriots, descend—come down out of the 
ineffable light into the shadows of earth, and lead the way. Wash¬ 
ington and Everett, and Sumner and Garfield, and Lincoln and 
Burnside, and Lyon and W T itherspoon, and Mason and Channing— 
descend, descend! Speak with lips once quieted. Strike with arms 
once palsied. Ride down into this fight in which earth and hell 
and heaven are in battle array. Thou mighty God of our fathers 
and brothers who fell at Lexington and Yorktowm, and South 
Mountain, and Gettysburg, descend and strike back national evil, and 
bring national good, and prove thyself the same God who answered 
the prayers of Hezekiah, and of Elijah, and of Deborah, and of 
Joshua. Thine, O Lord, is the Kingdom! Talmage. 




THE BODIES OF ANGELS. 


The bodies of angels are doubtless of a much finer mould than 
the bodies of men; but, although they were at all times invisible 
through such organs of vision as we possess, it would form no proof 
that they are destitute of corporeal frames. The air we breathe is a 
material substance, yet it is invisible; and there are substances whose 
rarity is more than ten times greater than that of the air of our at¬ 
mosphere. Hydrogen gas is more than twelve times lighter than com¬ 
mon atmospheric air. If, therefore, an organized body were formed 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


333 


of a material substance similar to air, or to hydrogen gas, it would in 
general be invisible; but, in certain circumstances, might reflect the 
rays of light, and become visible, as certain of the lighter gaseous 
bodies are found to do. This is, in some measure, exemplified in the 
case of animalculce, whose bodies are imperceptible to the naked eye, 
and yet are regularly organized material substances, endowed with 
all the functions requisite to life, motion and enjoyment. 

Rev. Dr. Dick. 

-- 

AN ANGEL STANDING BY. 



E have read of a certain youth in the early days of Chris¬ 
tianity (those periods of historic suffering and heroic pa¬ 
tience and legendary wonder, to which I call your atten¬ 
tion)—we read of a Christian youth on whom his persecu¬ 
tors put in practice a more than common share of their 
ingenuity, that by his torments (let those who can or will 
go through the horrible details) they might compel him to 
deny his Lord and Savior. 

After a long endurance of those pains they released him, in 
wonder at his obstinancy. His Christian brethren are said to have 
wondered too, and to have asked him by what mighty faith he could 
so strangely subdue the violence of the fire, as that neither a cry nor 
a groan escaped him. 

“It was indeed most painful,” was the noble youth’s reply; 
“ but an angel stood by me when my anguish was at the worst, and 
with his finger pointed to heaven.” 

O thou, whoever thou art, that art tempted to commit a sin, do 
thou think on death, and that thought will be an angel to thee! The 
hope of heaven will raise thy courage above the fire cast threatenings 
of the world; the fear of hell will rob its persuasions of all their en¬ 
chantment; and the very extremity of their trial may itself contribute 
to animate thy exertions by thought that the greater will be thy re¬ 
ward hereafter. Bishop Heber. 


What if death my sleep invade? 
Should I be of death afraid? 






334 


THE HOME BEYOND 


ANGELS AEE IN HEAVEN. 



ILL you turn to the 18th chapter of Matthew, 10th verse ; 
“Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones ; 
for I say unto you that in heaven their angels do always 
behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.” So we 
shall have the company of angels when we go there. We 
find when Gabriel came down and told Zachariah that he 
should have a son, Zachariah doubted his word; and Gabriel 
replied: “I am Gabriel, that stands in the presence of God.” 
Ifc says in Luke, 2d chapter and 13th verse, that after one angel had 
proclaimed that Jesus was born in Bethlehem, there was a multi¬ 
tude of the heavenly host telling out the wonderful story. So, we 
have angels in heaven. We have God the Father, and Christ the 
Son, and angels dwelling there. 

Moody. 


ANGELIC SYMPATHY. 


Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep. 
All these with ceaseless praise his works behold, 
Both day and night. How often, from the steep 
Of echoing hill or thicket, have we heard 
Celestial voices to the midnight air, 

Sole, or responsive each to others’ note, 

Singing their great Creator! Oft in bands, 

While they kept watch, or nightly rounding walk 
With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds, 

In full harmonic numbers joined, their songs 
Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven. 


Oh, angel, lend me the shade of thy wing; 

I see the portals of light unrolled, 

With songs of welcome their arches ring— 
The ransomed is safe in the heavenly fold. 


Milton- 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


335 


THREE LITTLE ANGELS. 


Three pairs of dimpled arms, as white as snow. 

Held me in soft embrace ; 

Three little cheeks, like velvet peaches soft, 

Were placed against my cheek. 

Three pairs of tiny eyes, so clear, so deep, 

Looked up in mine this even, 

Three pairs of lips kissed me a sweet “ good night,” 
Three little forms from heaven. 

Ah, it is well that “ little ones ” should love us , 

It lights our faith when dim. 

To know that once our blessed Savior bade them 
Bring “little ones” to him. 

And said He not, “ of such is Heaven,” and blessed, 
them,. 

And held them to his breast ? 

Is it not sweet to know that when they leave us, 

’ T is there they go to rest ? 

And yet, ye tiny angels of my house, 

Three hearts cased in mine ! 

How * Twould be shattered, if the Lord should say 
“Those angels are not thine !” 















THE ANGELS COMING FOK ST. CECILIA. 





































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
HELIODORUS PUNISHED IN THE TEMPLE. 


337 



^ ;N the Apocryphal book of the Maccabees, we read that Se¬ 
ll^ lencns, King, of Asia, at the instigation of Simon, a rene¬ 
gade Jew, ordered his Treasurer, Heliodorus, to proceed to 
Jerusalem, go into the temple, and bring to him the sacred 
treasures of silver and gold, which it contained. Heliodo¬ 
rus made the attempt, in spite of the protestations of the 
high priest. Then the priests and the people supplicated heaven to 
interfere and prevent the money laid up for the relief of the widows 
and the fatherless from being thus taken. As soon as Heliodorus 
entered the treasury, a fierce horse, with a terrible rider, covered 
with golden armor, attacked him. The horse struck him with his 
fore feet, and two angels in the guise of young men, scourged him 
continually, “and gave him many sore stripes.” He was carried out 
nearly dead, but was restored through the prayers of the priests. 
He went back to his master without the treasure, and reported the 
miraculous treatment he had received. 


THE ANGELS COMING FOR ST. CECILIA. 



^_T. CECILIA, the patroness of music, it is said, was cor 
demned to a martyr’s death, in the year 230. Her persecutors 
first threw her into a boiling bath, but on the following day 
she was found unhurt. The executioner next attempted to 
cut off her head, but found it impossible. Three days 
lator she died a natural and peaceful death. The angels, 
making sweet music, hovered over her dying bed, and when the spirit 
left the body, bore it with triumphant songs to its celestial home. 
The poets and the painters never grow weary in celebrating and rep 
resenting her. 










'i 


% 



HELIODOR US PUNISHED IN THE TEMPLE. 











































































































































































































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN 


339 


HOOKERS MEDITATION ON THE ANGELS. 


HEN the most majestic divine of the English Church, 
.iiwjHBaajtai Richard Hooker, was on his death-bed, he was found deep 
in contemplation, and on being asked the subject of his 
thoughts he replied “that he was meditating upon the 
n number and nature of angels, and their blessed obedience 
and order, without which peace could not be in heaven ; 
and oh ! that it might be so on earth? ” It was a meditation full of 
the same grand thought which inspired the great work the thought 
of the Majesty of Law, “whose seat,” as he says, “is in the bosom 
of God, and whose voice is the harmony of the universe.” The very 
words by which the angelic intelligences are described, “thrones, 
principalities and powers,” the very connection into which they are 
brought with the searching laws of nature, “ maketh the winds His 
arigels and the flames of fire His ministers”—bring before us the 
truth that by law, by order, by due subordination of means to ends, 
as in the material so in the moral world, the will of God is best 
carried out. 

Dean Stanley. 


THE HEAVENLY HOST OF ANGELS. 


HE idea of the heavenly host of angels includes the opera¬ 
tions of God in the vast movements of the universe, and 
his ministrations through the spirits of men, whether now 
or hereafter. It includes that ideal world to which the 
S greatest of heathen philosophers fondly looked as the sphere 
in which reside the great ideas, the perfect images, of which 
all virtue and beauty are but the inperfect shadow. It includes the 
thought of that peculiarly bright and lovely type of Christian char¬ 
acter to which, for want of any other word, we have in modern times 
given the name as angel or angelic—superhuman, yet not divine ; 
not heroic, nor apostolic, nor saintly, yet exactly what we call ser¬ 
aphic, elevating, attating, with the force of inherent nobleness and 











340 


THE HOME BEYOND 


beauty. “ He who has seen in men or women,” says Luther “ a 
gentleness without art or effort penetrating the whole nature through 
and through, he has seen for himself the colors wherewith he may 
paint for himself what is meant by an angel.” The idea belongs 
to that high region of thought where religion and poetry combine. 
Religions beleif has furnished the materials, but poetry wrought and 
transformed them into shapes which the latest religious culture of 
mankind can never cease to recognize. 

Dean Stanley. 


ANGELS ATTENDANT UPON MAN. 


Angels are sent to be his attendants. They come to minister 
to him here, and to conduct him home ‘to glory.’ Kings and princes 
are surrounded by armed men, or by sages called to be their coun¬ 
sellors ; but the most humble saint may be encompassed by a retinue 
of beings of far greater power and more elevated rank. The angels 
of light and glory feel a deep interest in the salvation of men. They 
come to attend the redeemed; they wait on their steps ; they sustain 
them in trial; they accompany them when departing to heaven. It 
is a higher honor to be attended by one of those pure intelligences 
than by the most elevated monarch that ever swayed a sceptre or 
wore a crown ; and the obscurest Christian shall soon be himself 
conducted to a throne in heaven, compared with which the most 
splendid seat of royalty on earth loses its lustre and fades away. 

How beautiful and truthful these words of Spenser : 

And is there care in heaven? and is there love 
In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, 

That may compassion of their evils move? 

There is.:—else much more wretched were the case 
Of men than beasts; But O! th’ exceeding grace 
Of Highest God that loves his creatures so, 

And all his works of mercy doth embrace, 

That blessed angels he sends to and fro 
To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe? 

How oft do they their silver bowers leave, 

To come to succor us that succor want! 

How do they with golden pinions cleave 
The yielding skies, like flying pursuivant 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


341 


Against foul fiends to aid us militant! 

They for us fight, they watch and duly ward, 

And their bright squadrons round about us plant; 

And all for love and nothing for reward; 

O why should Heavenly God to men have such regard! 

Rev. Albert Barnes. 


-- 

ANGELIC SYMPATHY NEEDED. 


“ Why come not spirits from the realms of glory, 

To visit the earth as in days of old— 

The times of ancient writ and sacred story ? 

Is heaven more distant, or has earth grown cold? 

Oft have I gazed when sunset clouds, receding, 

Waved like rich banners of a host gone by, 

To cateh the gleam of some white pinion speeding 
Along the confines of the glowing skv. 

\ 4 

And oft when midnight stars in distant chillness 
Were calmly burning, listened late and long; 

But nature’s pulse beat on in solemn stillness, 

Bearing no echo of the seraph’s song. 

To Bethlehem’s air was their last anthem given 
When other stars before the One grew dim? 

Was their last presence known in Peter’s prison? 

Or where exulting martyrs raised their hymn? 

And are they all within the veil departed? 

There gleams no wing along the Empyrean new ;— 

And many a tear from human eyes have started, 

Since angel touch has calmed a mortal brow.” 

This is a truly pathetic complaint, and one to which few hearts 
have not returned an ardent echo. But there is no need of making 
it. It is true, if we look for angels with our bodily eyes, or even 
with the eyes of a poet, we shall not see the gleam of white pinions 
speeding along the confines of the glowing sky ; we shall not hear 
their songs as the shepherds of Bethlehem heared them. Yet they 
have not all retired forever behind the veil of the visible. They may 
still be seen heard by the eye and ear faith, though 

“ There gleams no wing along the empyrean now.” 

Rev. H. Harbaugh, D. D. 



1 



I 


I 


I 












































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
UNSEEN COMPANIONS. 



was expedient, says Christ, for his disciples that he should 
|jf£ go away. The coming of the helper or comforter depended 
on his going. We may not understand all the reasons, or 
perhaps the main reasons, why, in the economies of heaven, 
this necessity existed ; but we can surmise one reason. We 
may belive that Christ would be much nearer his disciples 
when absent in the body. The bodily senses sometimes hinder the 
appreciation of truth. The artist’s ideal is always more perfect than 
his canvas. The Christian’s view of Jesus, when not seeing him in 
the flesh (visible familiarity might beget blindness) is far deeper and 
broader and higher and truer than the beholding him with the physical 
sense; friends who have left us for the prepared home are nearer and 
dearer to us than ever; the heart recognizes and understands them 
better than ever before, and this power suggests their spiritual 
presence as a complementary fact. Our Lord told his disciples that 
he would be with them personally and really, though unseen. May 
it not be true—is it not likely—that all the Lord’s redeemed and 
crlorified ones come personally and really, though unseen and unnoticed 
by any material sense, into the society of those with -whom affection 
has indissolubly joined them ? They would only in this be followers 
of their Lord, who is their forerunner and example. “ But why do 
they not communicate with us?” Because, (1) Spirit and sense 
cannot communicate, and our own spirits are too clogged with sense 
to know the free spiritual communication ; (2) A free communication 
with the other world would take away our interest in this world’s 
necessary duties ; while (3) on the other hand, it would beget so great 
a familiarity with the other world as to diminish its influence upon 
our lives and characters. When our Lord said, “ I go,” he also added, 
“ The world seeth me no more, but ye see me, ye shall know that 1 am 
in my Father, and ye in me and I in you.” His going was only the 
going of the flesh, perceived by the sense. In the truest and most 

real sense, he was not about to leave them. 

Rev. Howard Crosby, D. D. 



344 


THE HOME BEYOND 


GUARDIAN ANGELS. 



HE fathers of the Christian Church taught that every human 
being, from the hour of his birth to that of his death, is 
^ accompanied by an angel appointed to watch over him. 
The Mahometans give to each of us a good and an evil an¬ 
gel; but the early Christian supposed us to be attended each 
by a good angel only, who undertakes that office, not merely 
from duty to God, and out of obedience and great humility, but as 
inspired by exceeding charity and love towards his human charge. 
It would require the tongues of angels themselves to recite all that 
we owe to these benign and vigilant guardians. They watch by the 
cradle of the new-born babe, and spread their celestial wings round 
the tottering steps of infancy. If the path of life be difficult and 
thorny, and evil spirits work us shame and woe, they sustain us; 
they bear the voice of our complaining, of our supplication, of our 
repentance, up to the foot of God’s throne, and bring us back in re¬ 
turn a pitying benediction to strengthen and to cheer. When pas¬ 
sion and temptation strive for the mastery, they encourage us to re¬ 
sist: when we conquer, they crown us; when we falter and fail, they 
compassionate and grieve over us; when we are obstinate in pollut¬ 
ing our own souls, and perverted not only in act, but in will, they 
leave us, and woe to them that are so left! But the good angel does 
not quit his charge until his protection is despised, rejected, and ut¬ 
terly repudiated. Wonderful the fervor of their love, wonderful 
their meekness and patience, who endure from day to day the spec¬ 
tacle of the unveiled human heart with all its miserable weaknesses 
and vanities, its inordinate desires and selfish purposes! Constant to 
us in death, they contend against the powers of darkness for the 
emancipated spirit. Mrs. Jameson. 


SYMPATHY OF ANGELS. 


Oh! there are no tears in heaven; but, when angels come down 
to earth, it may be they can fall into companionship with human 
sadness, and even learn to weep; and where is the spectacle which 
shall wring tears from eyes which they were never meant to stain, if it 








OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


345 


be not that of the obstinate rejection of the gospel of reconciliation 
and of careless trifling with a thing so inestimably precious as the 
soul? Old men, buried with your gold, angels weep over you! Young 
men, frittering away your days in vanities and pleasures, angels weep 
over you 1 Rev. H. Melvill, D. D. 


-stalls- 


ANGELS NOT UNEMBODIED SPIRITS. 


“In every instance in which angels have been sent on embassies 
to mankind, they have displayed sensible qualities. They exhibited 
a definite form , somewhat analogous to that of man, and color and 
splendor , which were perceptible by the organ of hearing—they 
emitted sounds which struck the organ of hearing—they produced 
the harmonies of music , and sung sublime sentiments, which were 
uttered in articulate words, that were distinctly heard and recognized 
by the persons to whom they were sent, Luke ii, 14—and they exerted 
their power over the sense of feeling. * * * In these instances, 
angels manifested themselves to men through the media m of three 
principal senses, by which we recognize the properties of material 
objects; and why, then, should we consider them as purely immaterial 
universe? We have no knowledge of angels but from revelation : and 
all the descriptions it gives of these beings, lead us to conclude that 
they are connected with the world of matter, as well as with the 
world of mind, and are furnished with organical vehicles, composed 
of some refined material substances, suitable to their nature and 
employments. 

Rev. Dr. Dm& 


<00 


When sorrowing o’er some stone I bend, 
Which covers all that was a friend, 

And from his voice, his hand, his smile, 
Divides me for a little while; 

Thou, Savior, see’st the tears I shed, 

For thou didst weep o’er Lazarus dead. 


Unknown 



? 


I 



V 











OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


347 


HOW LOVING ARE THE ANGELS TO MEN. 


KEY. C. H SPUKGEON. 



OW loving are the angels to men ; for they rejoice over 
one sinner that repenteth. There she is, in that garret, 
where the stars look between the tiles. There is a miser¬ 
able bed in that room, with but one bit of covering, and 
she lieth there to die ! Poor creature ! Many a night 
she has walked streets in the time of her merriment ; but 
now her joys are over ; a foul disease, like a demon, is devouring 


her heart! She is dying fast, and no one careth for her soul ! But 
there in the chamber she turns her face to the wall, and she cries, “O 
thou that savedst Magdalen, save me ; Lord, I repent; have mercy 
upon me, I beseech thee.” Did the bells ring in the street? Was 
the trumpet blown ? Ah ! no. Did men rejoice ? Was there a 
sound of thanksgiving in the great congregation ? No; no one 
heard of it ; for she died unseen. But stay ! There was one stand¬ 
ing at her bedside who noted well that tear ; an angel who had come 
down from heaven to watch over this stray sheep, and mark its re¬ 
turn ; and no sooner was her prayer uttered than he clapped his 
wings, and there was seen flying up to the pearly gates a spirit like a 
star. The heavenly guards came crowding to the gate, crying, 
“ What news, O son of fire?” He said, “’Tisdone.” “And what is 
done?” they said. “Why, she has repented.” “What! She who was 
once a chief of sinners ? Has she turned to Christ ?” “’Tis even 
so,” said he. And then they told it through the streets, and the 
bells of heaven rang marriage peals, for Magdalene was saved, and 
she who had been the chief of sinners was turned unto the living 
God. 


It was in another place. A poor neglected little boy in ragged 
clothing had run about the streets for many a day. Tutored in 
crime, he w r as paving his path to the gallows ; but one morning lie 
passed by a humble room, where some men and women were sitting 
together teaching ragged children. He stepped in there, a wild Be¬ 
douin of the streets ; they talked to him ; they told him about a soul 
and an eternity—things he had never heard before ; they spoke of 
Jesus and of tidings of great joy to this poor friendless lad. He 




348 


THE HOME BEYOND 


went another Sabbath, and another; his wild habits hanging about 
him, for he could not get rid of them. At last it happened that his 
teacher said to him one day, “ Jesus Christ receives sinners.” That 
little boy ran, but not home, for it was but a mockery to call it so— 
where a drunken father and a lascivious mother kept a hellish riot to¬ 
gether. He ran, and under some dry arch, or in some wild unfre¬ 
quented corner, he bent his little knee, and there he cried, that poor 
creature in his rags, “ Lord, save me, or I perish ; ” and the little 
Arab was on his knees—the little thief was saved ! He said— 


“Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to thy bosom fly; ” 


And up from that old arch, from that forsaken hovel, there flew a 
spirit, glad to bear the news to heaven, that another heir to heaven 
was born to God. I might picture many such scenes ; but will each 
of you try to picture your own ? You remember the occasion when 
the Lord met with you. Ah ! little did you think what a commotion 
there was in heaven. If the Queen had ordered out all her soldiers, 
the angels would not have stopped to notice them ; if all the princes 
of earth had marched in pageant through the streets, with all their 
robes, and jewelry, and crowns, and all their regalia, their chariots, 
and their horsemen—if the pomps of ancient monarchs had arisen 
from the tomb—if all the might of Babylon, and Tyre, and Greece 
had been concentrated into one great parade, yet not an angel would 
have stopped in his course to smile at those poor tawdry things ; but 
over you, the vilest of the vile, the poorest of the poor, the most ob¬ 
scure and unknown—over you angelic wings are hovering, and con¬ 
cerning you it was said on earth and sung in heaven, “ Hallelujah, for 
a child is born to God to-day.” 



Behind the cloud the star-light lurks; 
Through showers the sunbeams fall; 


For God, who loveth all his works 
Hath left his hope with all. 



I cannot feel their touch, their faces see, 
Yet my soul whispers, they do come to me. 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


349 


MINISTERING ANGELS IN HOLY SCRIPTURES. 


HAT angels have been engaged in communicating intelli¬ 
gence to men, is abundantly evident from the Bible. Their 
very name, which means a messenger or bearer of news, 
designates their office in this respect. The intelligence 
that God would destroy Sodom, was communicated to Lot, 
by two angels. They announced the coming of the Sav¬ 
ior, and of his fore-runner, John the Baptist. To the Marys 
who went early to the tomb to seek Jesus, they brought the informa¬ 
tion that he had risen. Even the law is said to have been “ordained 
by angels in the hands of a mediator,” and Stephen says that the 
Jews received it by the “disposition of angels.” The Revelation 
which John received on Patmos, in a vision of those things which 
must shortly come to pass, were “sent and signified” by an angel. 
Cornelius, who was a devout man, “and prayed to God always,” re¬ 
ceived from an angel the comforting intelligence that his prayers 
were heard. “Thy prayers and thine alms,” said the angel, “are 
come up as a memorial before God.” Daniel also received notice in 
the same way that his prayer was heard; for the angel Gabriel, being 
caused to fly swiftly, reached him about the time of the evening 
incense, before his prayer was ended, clothed with authority to answer 
his prayer, and to assure him of his acceptance before God. 




What if death my sleep invade? 
Should I be of death afraid ? 
Whilst encircled by Thy arm, 
Death may strike but cannot harm. 
With Thy heavenly presence blest, 
Death is life, and labor rest. 
Welcome sleep or death to me, 

Still secure, if still with Thee. 


Philip Doddridge. 









350 


THE HOME BE YOND 


THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE. 


A FREE 1’ARAPHRASE OF THE GERMAN. 


IN 



O weary hearts, to mourning homes, 
God’s meekest Angel gently comes; 
No power has he to banish pain, 

Or give us back our lost again, 

And yet, in tenderest love, our dear 
And Heavenly Father sends him here. 


There’s quiet in that Angel’s glance, 
There’s rest in his still countenance; 

He mocks no grief with idle cheer, 

Nor wounds with words the mourner’s ear; 
But ills and woes he may not cure, 

He kindly learns us to endure. 


Angel of Patience! sent to calm 
Our feverish brow with cooling balm; 
To lay the storms of hope and fear, 
And reconcile life’s smile and tear; 
And throbs of wounded pride to still, 
And make our own our Father’s will. 


^h! thou, who mournest on the way, 
With longings for the close of day, 

He walks with thee, that Angel kind, 
And gently whispers,—“ Be resigned! 
Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell 
The dear.Lord ordereth all things well!” 




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352 


THE HOME BEYOND 
FALLEN ANGELS. 


REV. JOHN HALL, D. D. 



'HERE is a true God ; there is a rival of His name, an ene« 
my of His cause and people. Satan walketh about as a 
roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. God has His 
interest in true worship; Satan, in getting men from this 
true worship. Satan and his followers, his fallen and al¬ 
lied spirits, aim at diverting to themselves, under this name 
and guise, the work that truly belongs to the Lord. The things 
which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to demons, and not to God 
“ I would not,” says the apostle, “ have you allied with the worship of 
demons.” This agency of evil spirits, this hostility to God and His 
Kingdom, the subtle forces that divert men at the beginning from 
true spiritual worship, have not become extinguished. Dear breth¬ 
ren, they are at work still. And they have not learned much through 
all these ages—they are lying spirits after all. Their policy is just 
the same. Human hearts are just the same. And so we may say 
to you, without the least hesitation, as Peter wrote down in his letter: 
“ Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary, the devil, walketh 
about, seeking whom he may devour.” The process begins when you 
are fascinated and attracted by the lion, and when so fascinated, you 
reject the truth that God is presenting to you. 


Angels our march oppose, 
Who still in strength excel 
Our secret, sworn, eternal foes, 
Countless, invisible. 


Charles Wesley. 


An angel’s hand can’t snatch me from the grave: 
Legions of angels can’t contine me there. 


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OUR BELOVED. 



ND our beloved have departed, 

While we tarry, broken-hearted, 

In the dreary, empty house; 

They have ended life’s brief story, 

They have reached their home of glory, 
Over death victorious. 

Hush that sobbing, weep more lightly, 
On we travel, daily, nightly 

To the rest that they have found. 
Are we not upon the river, 

Sailing fast, to meet forever 

On more holy, happy ground? 


Every hour that passes o’er us, 

Speaks of comfort yet before us, 

Of our journey’s rapid rate; 

And like passing vesper bells, 

The clock of time its chiming tells, 

At eternity’s broad gate. 

Ah! the way is shining clearer, 

As we journey ever nearer 

To the everlasting home. 

Friends, who there await the landing, 
Comrades, round the throne now standing, 
We salute you, and we come. 

355 


/ 















































356 


THE HOME BEYOND 


INSEPARABLE FELLOWSHIP. 


There was, very early, a Christian custom which required that 
the memory of departed friends should be celebrated by their rela¬ 
tions, husbands, or wives, on the anniversary of their death, in a 
manner suited to the spirit of the Christian faith and the Christian 
hope. It was usual on this day to partake of the communion under 
a sense of the inseparable fellowship with those who had died in the 
Lard. A gift was laid on the altar in their name, as if they were 
still living members of the church.” 

“ W T hile individual Christians and Christian families celebrated 
in this manner the memories of those departed ones who were espe¬ 
cially near to them by the ties of kindred, whole communities cele¬ 
brated the memory of those who, without belonging to their own 
particular community, died as witnesses for the Lord. The an¬ 
niversary of the death of such individuals was looked upon as their 
birth-day to a nobler existence. Great care was bestowed in provid¬ 
ing for their funeral obsequies, and at the repose of their bodies, as 
the sanctified organs of holy souls, which were one day to be awak¬ 
ened from the dead and restored to their birth-day (in the sense which 
has been explained) the people gathered round their graves, where 
the story was rehearsed of their confession and sufferings, and the 
communion was celebrated in the consciousness of a continued fel¬ 
lowship with them, now that they were united with Him for whom ? 
by their sufferings, they had witnessed a good confession.” 

Neander. 



I called on dreams and visions to disclose 
That which is veiled from waking thoughts; conjured 
Eternity as men constrain a ghost 
T’ appear and answer; to the grave I spake 
Imploringly;—looked up, and asked the heavens 
If angels traversed their cerulean floors, 

If fixed or wandering star could tidings yield 
Of the departed spirit—what abode 
It occupies—what consciousness retains 
Of former loves and interests. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 357 

COMMUNION OF THE DEAD WITH THE LIVING. 


REV. PROF. A. P. PEABODY, D. D. 


t am thy fellow-servant, and of thy brethren the prophets.—Revel 

ation xxii, 9. 


O said the angel that showed St. John the tree of life, and 
talked with him of the joys of heaven. He was an earth 
born angel, trained by arduous duty and stern conflict for 
a holy and exalted ministry in God’s nearer presence. It 
was in a vision that the apostle beheld him; and a vision 
denotes, with emphasis, seeing; that is, a clearer, deeper, 
truer insight than is enjoyed in the usual condition of the 
faculties. It was not fables or allegories, but realities and truths 
appertaining to spiritual world, that were unfolded to the seers of 
the Old and New Testament in vision. The inward eye was opened. 
They beheld things of which the external sense cannot take cogniz¬ 
ance, and which they could describe only by images and symbols 
that feebly represented the impressions made upon their own minds. 
I have chosen this text in order to speak to you of the nearness of 
heaven to earth, and of our connection and communion with the 
great spiritual family. I cannot think of heaven as a separate, far- 
off mansion or city of the redeemed, but as in close connection with 
the world in which we live. I believe that the members of the heav¬ 
enly society, even now, sympathize with us, rejoice in our virtue, 
and minister to our spiritual growth. 

There are many sayings of Jesus, and incidents in his life, 
vhich imply the intimate communion of the dead with the living. 
One of the most striking features of his life is the frequency and 
nearness of his converse with the spiritual wv-.j: He never speaks 
of angels and just men made perfect, as if there were a weary dis¬ 
tance to be crossed from them to us, or from us to them. They 
are often with him,—at his birth, in his temptation, and in his 
agony they come uncalled,—they watch by his sepulchre, and wait on 
his ascension. The spirits of the long-dead talk with him on the 
mountain. His voice to the widow’s son, his powerful word at the 
tomb of Lazarus, seem addressed to souls not afar off, but within 











358 


THE HOME BEYOND 


call,—near the scenes from which they had gone, and among the 
friends who thought them lost forever. He promises, also, his own 
spiritual presence with his followers, when he shall be no longer 
visible to the outward eye. 

Among other touching allusions to the connection between the 
dead and the living, we cannot but assign a prominent place to that 
saying of our Savior,—“Joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that 
repenteth.’ In this joy we cannot imagine the higher orders of the 
spiritually family as partaking, without its being shared by the peni¬ 
tents kindred and friends in heaven. How intimate is the relation 
between the two worlds implied in the thought which these words 
suggest! The faint, lowly sigh of the cod trite heart sweeps in glad 
harmony over the golden lyres, and wakes among the blessed a new 
song of thanksgiving. The first pulsations of spiritual life in the 
outcast sinner beat in the souls of the sinless, and eveiy throb of 
godly sorrow on earth pours new joy through the ranks of the re¬ 
deemed. 

It is said that this near connection of heaven with earth must 
interfere with the perfect happiness of those in heaven, from their 
view of the painful discipline appointed to many of their nearest and 
best friends ? I reply, that, whether they behold the trials of their 
friends or not, they must know, from their own remembered experi¬ 
ence, that sorrow awaits all -who enter into life. But they no longer 
dread for others the angel-ministries of adversity, which they now 
fully recognize for themselves. They behold universal Providence 
everywhere from seeming evil inducing the highest good, and thus 
can acquiesce with solemn joy in whatever afflictions are appointed for 
those whom they hope one day to welcome as their companions in 
glory, even as the Father himself, who loves us all better than we 
can love each other, dwells in serene and eternal happiness, while he 
mingles the cup of sorrow and agony for his children. 

It is asked,, L ' heaven can be thus near, and yet unseen ? I 
reply, that the invisible presence of the children of God is no more 
mysterious than, his own. They may be all around us, without our 
discerning them, because our spiritual vision is not strong and clear 
enough to behold them,—even as the minute creation, that fills air, 
earth, and sea, remained for ages unknown, for lack of a proper me¬ 
dium through which to view it. Our Savior saw the dead and talked 
with them; for in him the spiritual vision was clear and full. And 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


359 


when his religion shall become supreme and all-pervading, and 
generations shall come forward, as they will in the latter days, bathed 
from infancy in the light and love of his gospel, the free communion 
with heaven may be opened, the tabernacle of God be with men, and 
the union of the two worlds form as much a part of the distinct con¬ 
sciousness of every disciple as it did of the Savior himself. 

I prize the belief of the communion of the dead with the living, 
on account of the encouragement to religious effort which their 
sympathy gives us. We all seek sympathy, and to secure it we often 
become followers of each other more than of Jesus. We walk slower 
than we need, that we may not part company with our halting fellow- 
pilgrims. We hang about our persons the same weights, and cherish 
the same easily besetting sins, as those who run the race at our side. 
And when, in any way, our consciences prompt us to walk otherwise 
or move on faster than our fellow-Christians, w r e cannot help looking 
back with a painful sense of solitude and desertion. But our friends 
in heaven are the more intimately associated with us, the farther we 
are in advance of the inert and sluggish. When we seem to be alone, 
we can say as did the prophet, when he saw himself environed and 
guarded by the host of heaven,—“ They that be with us are more 
than they that be with them.” Those of our friends who have entered 
the heavenly rest have enured what we must encounter, and know 
how severe are the couflicts through which we must struggle into 
the higher life. They themselves felt the loneliness and desolation 
which sometimes press so heavily upon our spirits. Their sensi¬ 
bilities are now touched to the finest issues. They are familiar 
with every mode of inward experience, and can enter into our 
hearts, where the closest sympathy of the living fails us. 

Again, we can hardly entertain the idea of the communion of our 
departed friends with us, without its prompting the desire for their 
continued approbation. Can we bear their inspection, and willingly 
remain unworthy of their esteem % Can w r e cherish the thought that 
they are with us, and yet harbor principles and habits from which 
they would turn with disapproval and loathing? Shall they behold us 
clinging to the weights which we should lay aside, and hugging the 
sins which we should crucify ? Our friends who have gone from us, 
perhaps, in the weakness of partial affection, could see no fault in ns. 
Our parents were, it may be, blind to our failings. Our children 
looked up to us wfitli unmingled reverence, as if we had been the in- 


360 


THE HOME BEYOND 


carnation of every virtue. Our gentle and loving fellow-Christians, 
while they were with us, threw over our weaknesses the beautiful 
mantle of their charity, and read our characters through the hazy 
medium of their own kindness. But the scales have now dropped 
from their eyes. If they see and know us, it is with a just appreci¬ 
ation of what we are. And have we fallen in their esteem ? Do they 
find us less worthy of their love than they used to think us ? Do 
they look upon us as less their companions and fellow- disciples than 
when they were here ? As we, parents and children, neighbors and 
friends, hope to find the long lost, but unforgotten, still true and 
loving, still and forever ours, O, let us cut off these sources of alien¬ 
ation and disappointment on their part,—let us not break fellowship 
with them, by so living in negligence and sin, that they must often 
avert their eyes from our unprofitable lives to the eternal throne in 
pitying intercession for us. 

The idea of this discourse appeals with peculiar power to those 
who have never entered upon the spiritual life. Is there a son who 
has a mother in heaven? Had God spared your mother, my young 
friend, would you not have held her happiness sacred, anticipated 
her desires, and shielded her from disappointment and sorrow ? You 
can even now make her happier. Full as her joy is, it is not perfect, 
while you remain out of the circle of her communion. Your mother’s 
soul still yearns for your salvation. Her intercessions, which first 
rose over your cradle, now ascend for you near the throne. Enter on 
the life of heaven, and you hang new jewels on her eternal crown of 
rejoicing. Is there a parent, still living without prayer and without 
the Christian’s hope, who has committed a child to the grave in spot¬ 
less infancy? How gladly, my friend, would you have guarded your 
child from peril and from grief, and born him in the arms of an all- 
enduring love along the rugged path of life! A work of love yet re¬ 
mains for you in that child’s behalf. He prays that he may not be 
left an orphan spirit, though it be in heaven; and for your first steps 
in the footmarks of the Lord Jesus, the voice lost to earth, before it 
could say My Father or My Mother , will be lifted in glad thanks¬ 
giving for you. Brothers and sisters, from whose circle Heaven has 
chosen the pure and lovely, were you here united by cordial sympathy 
and deep affection ? Their prayer is, that the divided household may 
again be made one. Are you the bond-slaves of gain, or pleasure, or 
self-indulgence ? The spirits of the departed mark your downward 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


361 


steps, and turn away from the scenes of your levity or your guilt in 
earnest deprecation of the fatal issue to which they see you hasten- 
ing. By a renewed heart and life, you can make yet happier those 
whom God has made happy, and satisfy the only longing of their 
souls which eternal love has left unfilled. 

Finally, what a momentous interest is given to our whole earthly 
life by the thought that it is passed in the presence and communion 
of the great spiritual family! To my mind there is hardly a text of 
Scripture, or form of speech, that rolls on with such a depth and 
fulness of meaning as those words,—“ Seeing that we are compassed 
about with so great a cloud of witnesses.” Vast and bewildering is 
the philosophical speculation which tells us that we cannot lift a 
finger without moving the distant spheres. But far more grand and 
unspeakable solemn is the thought, that our daily lives, our conduct 
in lowly and sheltered scenes, our speech and walk in the retirement 
of our homes, are felt through the universe of ever-living souls,— 
that the laws of attraction and repulsion that reach through all ord¬ 
ers of being extend to our least words and deeds,—that in every 
worthy, generous, holy impulse all heaven bears part,—that from the 
trail of our meanness and selfishness, our waywardness and levity, all 
heaven recoils. Let the august witnesses, the adoring multitude, in 
whose presence we dwell and worship, arouse us to growing diligence 
in duty, and awaken in us increasing fervor of spirit, that we may 
run with patience the race that is set before us, and, found faithful 
unto death, may receive the crown of life. 


The world may change from old to new, 
From new to old againr 
Yet Hope and Heaven forever true, 
Within man’s heart remain. 

The dreams that bless the weary soul, 
The struggles of the strong, 

Are steps toward some happy goal, 

The story of Hope’s song. 





362 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE SAINTED DEAD LEAD US HEAYENWORD, 


/ 

REV. H. HARBAUGH, A. M. 





x OD graciously designs that the death of our friends, and. 
our desire to meet them again, should lead us to piety 
“No one dieth to himself.” Their death, as well as their 
life, is in this way to be of real service to us. It is most 
beautifully said—who can read it without tender¬ 
ness ?— 


Smitten friends 

Are angels sent on errands full of love ; 

For us they languish, and for us they die, 

And shall they languish, shall they die in vain ? 
Ungrateful shall we grieve their hovering shades, 
Which wait the revolution in our hearts? 

Shall we disdain their silent soft address ; 

Their posthumous advice, and pious prayer ; 

Senseless as herds which graze their hallowed graves, 
Tread under foot their agonies and groans. 

Frustrate their anguish, and destroy their deaths ? 


In many cases this sweet motive to piety has led to blessed 
resuits—no doubt much oftener than is known. “Several years ago,’ 
says a pastor, “I was called to attend the funeral of a child five 
years of age. She had sickened and died suddenly. The father I 
knew not, except that he was an infidel. This child had attended 
my Sabbath school, and she had left behind some interesting conver¬ 
sation with several members of the church. This, after the child 
had died, was communicated to the bereaved mother for her 
consolation. At the funeral the mother appeared more deeply in¬ 
terested in the subject of her own salvation than that of the loss of 
her child. The next Sabbath this family were at my church, 
and requested prayers that their afflictions might be sanctified. They 
continued to attend may church Sabbath after Sabbath, and on the 
fifth Sabbath the father became hopefully pious. Soon after 
this his wife became pious, and then a sister, and then a yonug 
lady residing in the family; and the father, mother, sister, and 
young lady, all, on the same Sabbath, made a public pro- 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


363 


fesaion of their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. That father is now a 
pillar in the church. This great change in that family was produced 
mstrumentally by the death of that child ! ” Following their sainted 
child into a holy world, they felt that they were not prepared to meet 
it there, and this led to deep and saving penitence. Thus, 

Heaven gives us friends to bless the present scene, 

Resumes them to prepare us for the next. 



THE SAINTED DEAD INTERESTED IN US. 


REV. H. HARBAUGH, A. M. 


The same reasons which induce us to believe in a final reunion 
with our sainted friends, encourage and warrant us also in the belief 
that they now remember us and feel interested in us. This idea toe 
is full of consolation ! It is sweet to be remembered by friends on 
earth, but how much more so to be assured that-we live in the memory 
of those who are now saints in light. Being raised higher, their 
interest in us must increase in proportion as they become acquainted 
with those heavenly joys which await us also, and which they already 
possess. As they approach towards their perfection,their benevolence 
and love must increase; and, when we consider that we think most 
about our friends when we ourselves are most blest, we cannot but 
believe that they regard us with special concern. To have friends 
in heaven, then, is to have an inheritance in which we may well 
delight, and after which we are sweetly constrained to long. AVe, 
who are heirs of such celestial treasures, may enter fully into the 
spirit of the Poet’s holy boasting— 

My boast, is not, that I deduce my birth 
From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; 

But higher far my proud pretensions rise— 

The son of parents passed into the skies ! 

A babe in a house is a well-spring of pleasure, 

A messenger of peace and love, 

A resting place for innocence on earth; a link between angels and men. 

M. F. Topper. 









ww? 


























OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE SHINING ONES. 


365 


JOHN BUNY4.N. 



n 

|OW you must note, that the City stood upon a mighty hill; 


but the pilgrims went up that hill with ease, because they 
had these two men to lead them up by the arms; they had 
likewise left their mortal garments behind them in the river; 
for though they went in with them, they came out without 
them. They therefore went up here with much agility and 
speed, though the foundation upon which the city was 
framed was higher than the clouds; they therefore went up through 
the regions of the air sweetly talking as they went, being comforted 
because they safely got over the river, and had such glorious com- 
panions to attend them. 

The talk that they had with the shining ones was about the 
glory of the place; who told them that the beauty and glory of it 
was inexpressible. There, said they, is “ the Mount Sion, the heavenly 
Jerusalem, the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of 
just men made perfect.” You are going now, said they, to the para¬ 
dise of God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and eat of the 
never fading fruits thereof; and, when you come there, you shall 
have white robes given you, and your walk and talk shall be every 
day with the King, even all the days, of eternity. There you shall 
not see again such things as you saw when you were in the lower re¬ 
gion upon the earth; to wit: sorrow, 

“ for the former things are passed 
Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, and to the prophets, men that God 
hath taken away from the evil to come, and that are now resting upon 
their beds, each one walking in his righteousness. The men then 
asked, What must we do in the holy place? To whom it was answered, 
You must there receive the comfort of all your toil, and have joy for 
all your sorrow; you must reap what you have sown, even the fruit of 
all your prayers, and tears, and sufferings for the King by the way. 
In that place you must wear crowns of gold, and enjoy the perpetual 
sight and visions of the Holy One; for there you shall see him as he 
There also you shall serve him continually with praise, with 


sickness, affliction, and death; 
away.” You are going now to 


is. 


shouting and thanksgiving, whom voc desired to serve in the world, 




f 














































































0H VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


367 


though with much difficulty, because of the infirmity of your flesh. 
There your eyes shall be delighted with seeing, and your ears with 
hearing the pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy 
your friends again that are gone thither before you; and there you 
shall with joy receive even every one that follows into the holy place 
after you. There also you shall be clothed with glory and majesty, 
and put into an equipage fit to ride out with the King of Glory. 
When he shall come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon 
the wings of the wind, you shall come with him; and when he shall 
sit upon the throne of judgment, you shall sit by him; yea, and when 
he shall pass sentence upon all the workers of iniquity, let them be 
angels or man, you also shall have a voice in that judgment, because 
they were his and your enemies. Also, w 7 hen he shall again return to 
the City, you shall go too with sound of trumpet, and be ever with 
him. 



DEGREES OF BLISS IN HEAVEN. 


There are to be different degrees of bliss in a future heaven. 
One star is to differ from another star in glory. There are to be 
rulers over five, and rulers over ten cities—those who are to be in the 
outskirts of glory, and those basking in the sunlight of the Eternal 
Throne! Is this no call on us to be up and doing?—not to be content 
with the circumference, but to seek nearness to the glorious centre— 
not only to have crowns shining as the brightness of the firmament, 
but to have a tiara of stars in that crown? It is the degree of 
holiness now that will decide the degree of happiness then — the 
transactions of time will regulate the awards of eternity. 

Rev. J. R. McDuff, D. D. 



It is little matter at what hour of the day 
The righteous fall asleep. Death cannot come 
To him untimely who has learned to die. 

The less of this brief life, the more of heaven; 

The shorter time, the longer immortality. 

Dean Millman 



368 


THE HOME BE YONL 
SAINTED FKIENDS 


REV. H. HARBAUGH, A. M. 



E think of heaven but vaguely unless we think of it as 
3 the abode of sainted freinds. Though our Savior is the 
chief attraction of the place, yet He, as the light of the 
upper temple, reveals to us also the saints as the happy 
worshipers ; thus presenting to our minds these subor 
dinate attractions, begetting in us a kind of familial 
home-feeling, and giving to heavenly joys a definiteness which they 
would not otherwise have. When we hear of a distant country, 
especially if we hear much in praise of it, we think and speak of it 
it is true, yet not in the same way as we do when once some of our 
dearest friends have gone to dwell there; then our thoughts and 
feelings assume a definiteness in reference to it, which they had not 
before. So in regard to heaven, when once we regard it as the home 
of our sainted friends. Then it is, to us, no more heaven in a vague 
and general idea, but it is heaven as the abode of our departed 
freinds—it is heaven as the place where we expect soon to rejoin 
them ;—this gives distinctness and intensity to all our thoughts of it. 
Then all our hearts transfer themselves to it, and live in it. Then, 
in faith, 


Our dying friends come o’er us like a cloud 
To damp our brainless ardors ; and abate 
That glare of life, which often blinds the wise. 

Much is gained as help to devout reverence and tender piety in thus 
drawing around us the solemn mysteries of eternity ; especially so, 
i f we can recognize by faith the alluring smiles of friends, looking 
..ut upon us through the cloudy veil which partly hides its mysteries 
like the golden light through the vista of clouds which hang along 
the evening sky. The love which we bear towards the saints in tha 
triumphant church, draws us towards them with humble reverence. 
It is a sweet attraction, which causes us to linger, in affectionate 
longings, on the confines of the shadowy spirit land It gives us aa 
indescribable desire for their “silent company.” It is said that the 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


369 


home-sickness of the Swiss soldiers in foreign lands was often so 
strong that they must return to their beloved home in the Alps or 
die; all was dreary and tasteless to them in absence, while the 
“ sweet home ” of their childhood hovered in smiles around them in 
visions of the day, and in dreams of the night. So it is with those 
to whom heaven is a Fatherland—the bright home-like abode of 
kindred and friends. It brings with it an unquenchable desire to 
leave this foreign land and return home. It familiarizes us with 
death as a narrow crossing. It keeps the power of eternal things 
near us ; and, to a great extent, converts the valley of the shadow of 
death into gardens of the Lord, through which lies the Father’s 
pleasant highway, by which His children return to him and to each 
other. 

We vfery much need influences like these to break in upon the 
lower attachments of life, which are too prone to detain our thoughts 
and feelings. Even when we very well know, in theory, what value 
to set upon earthly things, we need also to learn the value of heavenly 
things, in order to enable us to feel practically the vanity of earth. 
The Poet has truly said: 

“Tis, by comparison, an easy task 

Earth to despise ; but, to commune with heaven— 

“ Tis not so easy. 

THE SAINTED WATCHERS. 


Withdraw not your mysterious presence from me, ye sainted 
watchers ! Ye have been an host around me, that came at the call of 
faith, in loveliest hours of my life. Look still on me through the 
veil, and let me still feel the calming influence of your blessed 
communion. Leave me not alone ! The earth is gloomy and sad 
from the curse. It shines but as a cold moon, with a borrowed light 
My soul is weary of these storm-swept solitudes outside of holy 
Eden. Hail ! ye far-off lands of light. Hail! ye happy dwellers 
in the peaceful Salem of purity and love ! “Oh that I had wings 
like a dove ! for then would I fly away, and be at rest.” 

What remains eternity will reveal ! 


Rev. H. Harbaugh. 



370 THE HOME BEY ONL 

THE SAINTED DEAD INTEKESTED IN THE uiVING 


BISHOP MATTHEW SIMPSON, D. D. 


^WlfND death does not change the nature, it does not destroy the 
j flJjJg K affections. Think you those that clasped us in their arms 
IIP but yesterday are careless of us because they have gone be 
y° nd the veil ? Not at all. The purest affection is the holiest 
W affection. The mother’s love is taken as the type of heavenly 
| love; but has that mother who watched over me for forty or 
fifty years, and was a mother always—now that she has just gone 
into the heavenly world, has she ceased to be a mother still? No; she 
is in the cloud. Gazing up into glory, she sees the face of Jesus; 
gazing down on earth, she sees the forms of those she loved. She is 
a witness. And it seems to me life would have more of its sacred¬ 
ness if we could only enter into the conviction that the departed ones 
are not away from us, not unmindful of us. We shall enter, it seems 
to me, into a higher conviction of the watchful providence of God, if 
we can think of the watchful care of our friends. And oh! to think, 
as you walk along the street, exposed to trials, temptations, sorrows, 
and cares, that dear, departed friends are looking at you! You who 
are tempted and likely to go wrong, think: ‘'Mother sees me.” You 
who are assailed and likely to be led astray, think: “ The dear one that 
dropped from my bosom is looking at me, wishing for my triumph 
and escape.” What a moral power it would give! And there is Jesus 
at the right hand his eye on us always, and his strength communi¬ 
cated to us always. Oh! it is these witnesses, a great company, their 
eyes upon us, that may have a powerful influence upon our hearts 
and lives and make us strain every nerve. There are some of you in 
this room who, when you took hold of that hand that was cold in the 
dying hour, promised you would live for Jesus and meet the dying 
one in glory. These loved ones are watching you; they are looking 
for you to turn; they are wondering what you are doing; they are as¬ 
tonished that you are living away from Jesus. And yet you do not 
see them, because your duties here, all your energies, are to be em¬ 
ployed in doing what you can. You are to look at present duty. 
They are resting, and gaze down on you. It is time enough for you 
to enter upon that beautiful vision when you become victors. 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
COMMUNION WITH THE DEPARTED. 


371 


The communion of saints in the church of Christ with those 
which are departed, is demonstrated by their communion with the 
saints alive. For if I have communion with a saint of God, as such, 
while he liveth here, I must still have communion with him when he 
is departed hence; because the foundation of that communion cannot 
be removed by death. The mystical union between Christ and his 
church, the spiritual conjunction of the members to the head, is the 
true foundation of that communion which one member had with an¬ 
other, all the members living and increasing by the same influence 
which they receive from him. But death, which is nothing else but 
th9 separation of the soul from the body, maketh no separation in 
the mystical union, no breach of the spiritual conjunction; and, con¬ 
sequently, there must continue the same communion, because there 
remaineth the same foundation. Bishop Pearson. 

THE DEPARTED ANXIOUS FOR US. 

Why should we lament and sorrow for those among us ivho are 
departed f Christ himself, our Lord and God, exhorts us, and He 
says: “I am the resurrection and the life; whosoever believeth in me, 
though he were dead, yet shall he live; and he that liveth and be¬ 
lieveth in me, shall never see death!” Why hasten we not to see our 
country, to salute our parents ? There a vast multitude of them that 
are dear to us, await our arrival, a multitude of parents, brethren, 
and children, who are now secure of their own salvation, and anxi• 
ous only about ours. What a mutual joy will it be for them and us, 
when we come into their presence and receive their embrace! 

Neander. 

-- 

I bent before Thy gracious throne 

And asked for peace with suppliant knee; 

And peace was given— nor peace alone, 

But faith, sublimed to ecstacy! 







372 


THE HOME BEYOND 
THE MEMORY OF THE SAINTED DEAJ). 


REV. H. HARBAUGH, A. M. 


HE memory of the sainted dead hovers, a blessed and puri¬ 
fying influence over the hearts of men. At the grave of 
the good, so far from losing heart, the spiritually minded 
find new strength. They weep, but as they weep, they loot 
down into the sepulchre, and beholds angels sitting, and the 
dead come nearer, and are united to them by a fellowship 
more intimate than that of blood. 

How soul-subduing is the thought, that but a thin veil, which a 
moment may lift, divides us from the conscious fellowship of our 
beloved dead! How solemn the thought that, being raised into a 
higher sphere, they may even now know much more of us than we do 
of them. How like devotion does the place become to us 
when we sit alone and summon around us their familiar 
faces; or, when we think of them in their white robes, with 
harps and palms, bending before the throne or walking in 
“heavenly pastime.” It makes us feel almost like the Publican, who 
stood afar off, casting a wishful and reverent look towards the holiest 
place, but conscious of his unworthiness to enter it. A sweet 
penitence comes over our hearts, and we look immediately to Jesus 
for a fresh application of his cleansing blood, that we may be made 
more like those into whose holy society we expect soon to be intro¬ 
duced. When the spirit of earthliness and sense hangs too heavily 
upon our affections and thoughts, so that we cannot rise to the con¬ 
templation of heavenly attraction as we desire, the prayer of the 
Poet is excusable. 

Ye holy dead, now come around, 

In season more profound ; 

And through the barriers of our sense 
Shed round your calming influence ; 

In silence come and solitude, 

With thoughts that o’er the mourner brood 








OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


373 


THE CLOUD OF WITNESSES. 


The Old Testament saints are represented as a cloud of wit¬ 
nesses around us, like the crowd which bent down from all sides 
upon the race-ground in the Olympic games. According to this allu¬ 
sion of the Apostle, they are around us, not merely as examples, but 
as interested spectators. That we are not conscious of this, does not 
prove its improbability; for the lower orders of nature that are be¬ 
neath us are not aware of our perfect knowledge of them, neither do 
they know us, and yet we know them—their nature, habits, pros¬ 
pects, and destiny. In like manner, we have reason, and also intim¬ 
ations of Scripture, to confirm in us the belief that our sainted 
friends are bending an interested eye of love over us in all our 
earthly pilgrimage—that they keep up a tender and affectionate ac- 
quantance with us who still struggle here below striving for immort¬ 
ality. 

Rev. H. Harbaugh, D. D. 

COMMUNION WITH THE DEPARTED. 


“ Those we loved on earth may be spectators at this moment of 
those they left behind them. The partition wall that separates Time 
from Eternity may be so thin that those on the other side may hear 
the voice of music and prayer lifted up to God from those on this 
side; the eye of saints in glory may have that penetrating power tha4 
it can see through the partition, and witness the countless races tha4 
are on their course to immortality and glory.” 

Rt. Rev. Geo. Burgess, D. D. 


God’s voice doth sometimes fall on us with fear; 
More oft with music low yet clear 






374 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE CLOUD OF WITNESSES. 


BISHOP MATTHEW SIMPSON, D. D. 


HERE is an intense interest in our gaining the victory, by 
the great cloud of witnesses; and these are they who them¬ 
selves have gained. If you look at a gallery, stretching 
away back, higher, and higher, and higher, the aspect of a 
crowded gallery is like a cloud; and if you can fancy gallery 
above gallery, it seems like clouds piled upon clouds. 
Around us are gathered, not our associates merely, nor chiefly, for 
the racers have very little time to look up at the countenances of all 
and scan them—the race was before them and all their energies 
were there; but the witnesses, who had ended their race, and were 
through their conflicts, and were resting, had time to look down and 
witness the contest of those who were in the arena. The apostle 
goes back from the beginning to reckon, bringing, age by age, those 
who are in this cloud. Thus, he says, Abel, who being dead yet 
speaketh—that is, not only may a man have his influence and inter¬ 
est in the world, who has been dead a year, or a hundred years, or a 
thousand years, but that influence and that interest exist from the 
very beginning, for Abel is the first man that died, and he is yet 
•peaking, and he yet feels an interest Abel is in that cloud and is 
looking down on those who are running the race. He has not forgot¬ 
ten the world yet, though gone up to glory; he himself having died 
for his faith, having witnessed a good profession and triumphed, is 
looking down on earth. And Enoch, who walked in the midst of un¬ 
godly men and prophesied, and they thirsted for his life, and the de¬ 
scending cloud took him up toward heaven, and he was not, for God 
took him in the clouds of glory—that Enoch, holy, pure, triumphant 
—he is part of the cloud watching us still; he has not forgotten earth 
or its scenes; he is gazing down upon us. And Noah, who, warned of 
God, saved his family in the ark, saw that dreadful scene when the 
ocean, breaking over its boundary, being above hill and mountain, 
swept the earth of its inhabitants—Noah, having gained the reward 
he is part of that cloud, and is looking down upon us, who are ex¬ 
posed to a deluge of sin worse than that deluge which swept the face 
of the earth. There is Abraham, who was called to part with his 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


375 


dearest son, as he supposed, the son of promise, to lay him on the 
altar; and when he sees father or mother struggling with the dearest 
of all affections, their hearts almost breaking at the sacrifice they 
may make, Abraham is looking down out of that cloud and trying to 
whisper: “ Give them up for God. I gave up Isaac, and had him 
back again. Trust God. Be not afraid to sacrifice everything for 
Jesus.” And Jacob, in his perilous pilgrimage—the poor boy, who 
laid his head upon a rock, and saw angels ascending and descending, 
and trusted God, and gave the tenth of his possessions to God’s 
cause, and God blessed him abundantly—he is in that cloud, and he 
is looking down, as if to whisper to every poor boy who may be 
tempted to do wrong: “ Do right and trust God. The angels of God 
are coming down to thee. Give what God has given thee, and He 
will give it back again.” 

Such are the voices that come whispering out of that cloud. 
And then there come Gideon and Samson, and Barak, and Jephtha, 
and host of others—prophets, apostles, patriarchs, martyrs—what 
say they, looking down from the cloud? Isaiah? I listen, but oh! 
what glorious visions had he ! Down in the valley by that tree they 
had sawn him asunder, and I hear his voice speaking out of that 
cloud : “Better obey God and be sawn asunder, than live a life of sin 
and be saved here in health.” Oh! what the voices speak! The mar¬ 
tyrs who were stoned, the men who were torn of wild beasts those 
who passed through fire and blood, who conquered in the name of 
Jesus—they are in the cloud, and they are looking down upon us, 
and they are saying. “ Trust God, and all shall be well. Death 
lasts only a little while ; glory comes afterward. Suffering is but a 
few years—the morning is breaking. Driven from the company of 
men to be in the company of angels. Driven from a life of suffering 
to be crowned with eternal glory before the throne of God.” These 
are some of the voices out of the cloud. 


But mark the peculiarity of expression. And it is to bring this 
great thought to your hearts to-day, if I can, that I have selected this 
passage. We are encompassed about by a great cloud of witnesses ; 
they are looking down on us, watching us. And Abel, and Enoch, 
and Noah, and Abraham, to-day, gaze even upon us, and they ar# 
anxious to see what shall be the results. Will we conquer, will we 
triumph, or will we fall by the way ? 

But the cloud of witnesses ends not here. If the thousands of 


376 


THE HOME BEYOND 


years that have passed have not changed Abel, and Enoch, and 
Noah, and Abraham, but they are part of that cloud of witnesses 
looking down still on those who are running this race. What shall we 
say of those more recently gone out from our midst ? They have pas¬ 
sed out of our sight but they are in the cloud, just as Noah, and 
Abraham, and Jacob, and Samson are there; and though we are not 
witnesses of them, they are witnesses of us; we are surrounded by a 
cloud of witnesses. They are witnesses—that is, looking at, watching, 
gazing on us. And who are they, and what interest do they feel ? 
Ah! there is no one here who has not witnesses just beyond the veil. 
You cannot see them, but they see you—grandfathers who clasped 
you in their arms; grandmothers who held you on their knees; fath¬ 
ers who counselled you and guided you in the days of your youth; 
mothers whose warm kiss you can still feel on your cheek, or whose 
warm tears dropped on your boyish head; husbands who walked by 
your side; wives who were your comfort and joy; brothers who stood, 
shoulder to shoulder, with you; sisters who talked with you by day 
and rested with you by night; children who were in your arms, and 
you talked to them of heaven and glory, and of the angels, and little 
thought how soon they should be called away, but they have gone up 
and they are in the cloud. And they are witnessing you, and they 
are witnessing to-day. 

THEY ARE PERFECTLY BLEST. 

They are perfectly blessed—the redeemed and the free— 

Who are resting in joy by the smooth glassy sea; 

They breathed here on earth all their sorrowful sighs, 

And Jesus has kissed all the tears from their eyes. 

They are happy at home! They have learnt the new song, 

And warble it sweetly amid the glad throng: 

No faltering voices, no discords are there— 

The melodious praises swell high through the air. 

There falls not on them the deep silence of night; 

They never grow weary—ne’er fadeth the light; 

Throughout the long day new hosannahs they raise, 

And express their glad thoughts in exuberant praise. 

E en thus would we praise thee, dear Savior divine— 

We too would be with thee—loved children of thine, 

O teach us, that we may sing perfectly there 
When we are called to that city so fair. 

Mariannb Farningham. 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
MY TWO ANGEL BOYS. 


377 




I may not see their features, 

Save in memory’s faithful glass, 

But I feel that they are with me, 

Each moment that doth pass. 

I feel them in the promptings 
Of good which thrill my heart; 

1 hear them in the voices 
Which pleasures most impart. 

When the sun beams bright around me. 

And my soul is full of joys, 

I then discern the presence 
Of my two angel boys. 

They whisper solace to me, 

When sorrow’s cloud is dark, 

They fan hope’s fading embers 
When dwindled to a spark. 

Their voice is sweetest music, 

But it greeteth not the ear; 

The heart alone receives it,— 

The heart alone can hear. 

As I lay me down to slumber 
Peace in my breast doth reign, 

For I know my angel watchers 
Amid the gloom remain. 

Spirit eyes gaze on me, 

Eyes that know not night; 

Spirit hands unite to bless me 
Hidden from my sight. 

Hidden, but, O, happiness!— 

Faith assurance brings! 

Living, loving, still they’re round me, 

Borne on willing wings. 

B. P. Shillabe** ' 




378 


THE HOME BEYOND 


OUR COMING LIFE. 


JOHN G. WHITTIER. 



E shape ourselves the joy or fear 


And fill our future’s atmosphere 
With sunshine or with shade. 


The tissue of the life to be 

We weave with colors all our own, 


And in the field of destiny 
We reap as we have sown. 


Of which the coming life is made, 


Still shall the soul around it call 

The shadows which it gathered here, 
And, painted on the eternal wall, 

The past shall reappear. 

Think ye the notes of holy song 
On’Milton’s tuneful ear have died? 
Think ye that Raphael’s angel throng 
Has vanished from his side? 

Oh, no’! we live our life again; 

Or warmly touched, or coldly dim, 
The pictures of the past remain— 
Man’s works shall follow him. 



To me there is an inexpressible sweetness in the thought that 
our friends who are asleep in Jesus may not be so distant from us as 
we had perhaps conceived. Should this be irreconcileable with the 
idea of confinement in a separate place, in expectation of the Resur¬ 
rection, then will I give up that idea for the sake of this. To think 
that not only are we ministered to by God’s angelic agents, and com¬ 
passed about with that vast cloud of Old Testament witnesses of 
whom the Apostle makes mention, but that our own dear friends, a 
sainted mother or wife, for example, or a loving father, may be also 
with us in our sleeping and in our waking hours, suggesting thoughts 
—for aught I know—of purity and peace, oh! what harm can there 
be in that belief ? Men may call it the romance, the enthusiasm, the 
exaggeration of religion, if they will. I do not think any will dare to 
call it “superstition.” 


Rev. W. H. Cooper, D. D 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE GRAFTED BUD. 


379 



O brightly beautiful, so fair! 

So lovely in her tender years, 

Ye might have known she could not bear 
To tarry in a life of tears. 

Those long-fringed lashes never more 
With drops of sorrow shall be wet, 

For she hath reached a blessed shore 
And only left us to regret, 

And broken hearts and troubled care, 

And garbs of grief that mortals wear. 


The stricken father, desolate, 

Folding his arms on empty air, 

Where erst his darling daughter sat, 

How will ye comfort his despair! 

The sunshine and the dews of love 

Have nursed in vain his foreign flower r 
And for her native soil above 
She early left his earthly bower; 

She could not linger, save to bless 
A little while his tenderness. 


Then bear her to a quiet spot, 

And break for her the moistened earth, 
The burden of each tender thought, 

The blessing of the household hearth: 
And let the May flowers gentiy wave 
With life like hers, as brief, as fair, 

In fragrant beauty on her grave, 

And o’er the dust that slumbers there: 
While her pure spirit, from above 
Bends o’er her home of earthly love. 

Perchance before the Eternal Throne, 

The new-born angel bows her head, 
With yearning heart and thrilling tone, 
Asks healing for the hearts that bled; 
Asks from the Holy Comforter, 

Comfort for her loved ones here, 

For her “ sweet mother,’' oh! for her 
Permission but to hover near, 

To such, to cheer, to shield from ill: 

Her child in heaven to bless her still. 







380 


THE HOME BEYOND 


HELP FROM THOSE FALLEN ASLEEP. 

For all the recollections of help received from those who are 
now fallen asleep, I would ask you to give God hearty thanks to-day. 
I might apply to some of these—though they were never your minis¬ 
ters—those touching words of the great anonymous Epistle, “Re 
member these your guides, who spoke to you, in some past day, the 
word of God: whose faith follow, as you contemplate the end of their 
conversation”—their death, that is, in the faith of Jesus; remember¬ 
ing that One Person never dies—“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday 
and to-day and forever.” 

Who would not shrink with pain and horror from the thought 
of severing himself, by lukewarmness, unbelief, or apostacy, from the 
fellowship, from the sympathy, from the everlasting company, of 
these his young comrades once in the army of the living God ? O, 
let many an earnest prayer go up this morning from us who “remain 
unto this present,” that we may have grace to end well—to finish 
our race with joy. 

Rev. C. J. Vaughn, D. D. 

THE HEAVENLY HOST. 


The mind recalls a venerable host whose names are written in 
heaven,—prophets, evangelists, patriots, apostles, benefactors of every 
kind, differing widely in power and grace, and the worth of their 
work, as one star differeth from another in glory; but all agreeing in 
this one trait, that they labored, not “ for the meat that perisheth, 
but for that which endureth unto everlasting life.” They gave 
themselves up with unwavering faith and uncalculating love to some 
worthy object in and for which they lived. Their creeds were many; 
but the same mind which was in Christ was in them all. They 
wrought with differences of administrations, but in them wrought one 
and the self-same spirit, asserting itself in all diversities of operations 
as holy and divine. We cannot think of these as dead and dust. 
They are with us still by the witness of the spirit that was in 
them: vital forces in the realms of faith,—the spirit’s own, they 
live unto God and they live unto us, witnessing and working with 
us and for us until now. 


Prof. Frederick H. Hedge, D. D. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 

ENTERING THE CELESTIAL GATE. 

" 

TAPPAN. 



OULD I were with them! they are free 
From all the cares they knew below, 
And strangers to the strife that we 
Encounter in this vale of woe. 

From storms of sorrow and of pain, 
Forever are they garnered in, 

Secure from sad defilement’s stain, 

The mildew and the blight of sin. 


Would I were with them! They embrace 
The loved ones, lost, long years before? 
What joy to gaze upon the face 
That never shall be absent more! 
There friends unite who parted here, 

At Death’s cold river, O how sadly! 
Forgotten are the sigh and tear, 

Their hearts are leaping, O how gladly! 


Would I were with them! They behold 
Their Savior, glorious and divine; 

They touch the cups of shining gold, 

And in his kingdom drink new wine. 

How flash, like gems, their brilliant lyres, 
Along the sparkling walls of heaven, 
When from the radiance catching fires, 

The song of songs to Christ is given! 

T i ■ 

Would I were with them! While without 
Are sighs and weeping, they, within, 

For every joy and gladness shout, 

And w'ell they may, who ’re free from sin! 
O this, indeed, is heaven above, 

This fills the bliss of every soul, 

To grow in holiness and love, 

As age on age shall ceaseless roll. 



381 








4 



Ymm INK^^^BEDQWS; D.H 


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OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


383 


PERSONALITY AND CONSEQUENT SYMPATHY OF THE 
DEPARTED. 


REV. H. W. BELLOWS, D. D. 



‘F man is the confessed summit of the visible creation—the 
[&■ noblest of creatures—it is equally true that his personality 
is the noblest and most dignified characteristic, nay, cause, 
of this superior nature. He is a thinking, reflecting, self- 
knowing, moral, and intellectual being only by force of 
this personality. The law does not call children under a 
certain age persons, because they are not responsible until self-con¬ 
sciousness, reflection, comparison, a distinction between themselves 
and their impulses, or force operating upon them, is felt and recog¬ 
nized. To this sense of personality belongs all moral life, all capac¬ 
ity of progress and improvement, all dignity and worth of character. 
Men are properly distinguished and graded by the degree in which 
personality, or the sense of it, is developed in them. What marks a 
man out as not one of the common herd only is the special force in 
and with which his personality exists and acts. You cannot lump 
him with his race. He is a person by eminence and genius, talents, 
achievements, and in the emphasis they give to this personality. It 
is the jeweled hilt of that sword whose shining blade, however keen 
and lustrous, weighty and fearful, falls useless and aimless when its 
handle is gone. Nay, it is the hand that grasps that hilt. It is the 
central principle of the man himself—the soul of his soul, the inner¬ 
most and last recess and home of his being. Humanity, if it exists 
at all in any abstract essence, really exists not in a race, but in indi¬ 
vidual men and women. There is properly no human race, except a 
name or generality which comprehends all persons of that race, as 
there is no dodo or megalosaurus after the last dodo has died. 

Nature is barren, unmoral, loveless, uninteresting in her mere 
forces; and only living, attractive, knowable, consummate, in the 
things, species, individual plants, animals, insects, flowers—above all f 
the persons she produces or attests. Now, is it possible or probable 
then, that the most sacred, venerable, awful, tender, central experh 
ence or manifestation she makes—the noblest characteristic of her 





384 


THE HOME BEYOND 


noblest off-spring—tbe principle or fact of personality in man, has 
no permanency, contains no prophecy, has no future ? If that lasts 
not, no matter what else endures, man is not immortal in the only 
sense in which it is of any interest to him to be immortal. 


THE SYMPATHY OF THE TWO WORLDS. 


REV. C. H. SPURGEON. 



'UT I have no doubt the thought has sometimes struck us 
that our praise does not go far enough. We seem as if 
we lived in an isle cut off from the main land. This 
world, like a fair planet, swims in a sea of ether unnavigated 
by mortal ship. We have sometimes thought that surely 
our praise was confined to the shores of this poor narrow 
world, that it was impossible for us to pull the ropes which might 
ring the bells of heaven, that we could by no means whatever reach 
our hands so high as to sweep the celestial chords of angelic harps. 
We have said to ourselves there is no connection between earth and 
heaven. A huge black wall divides us. A strait of unnavigable 
waters shuts Uo out. Our prayers cannot reach to heaven, neither 
can our praises affect the celestials. Let us learn from our text how 
mistaken we are. We are, after all, however much we seem to be shut 
out from heaven, and from the great universe, but a province of God’s 
vast united empire, and what is done on earth is known in heaven; 
what is sung on earth is sung in heaven; and there is a sense in 
which it is true that the tears of earth are wept again in paradise, 
and the sorrows of mankind are felt again, even on the throne of the 
Most High. 

“ There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one 
sinner that repenteth.” It seems as if these words showed me a 
bridge by which I might cross over into eternity. It doth, as it were, 
exhibit to me certain magnetic wires which convey the intelligence of 
what is done here to spirits in another world. It teaches me that 
there is a real and wonderful connection between this lower world 
and that which is beyond the skies, where God dwelleth, in the land 
of the happy. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE DEPARTED REMEMBER. 


385 


“ Some suppose a certain kind of continuance of their thinking 
faculties after death, but do not believe that with these faculties they 
will remember their earthly existence. They dream of an existence 
that is entirely new, which is better than the present, but upon which 
life has no influence, and with which it has no connection. This 
whole idea amounts to just the same as entire annihilation at death; 
for if I cannot recollect this life—its fortunes and misfortunes, my 
wife and children, my friends, my weaknesses and my good deeds,— 
in short, nothing at all, then I am no more the same I, no more the 
same person, but I will be a being entirely new! The Lord in mercy 
preserve us from such a future state! But thanks to his name for¬ 
ever, that the Bible, and the common sense and feeling of men in all 
ages and in all places, teach directly the contrary.” 

Stilling. 


ooo 

WHAT A MEETING IN HEAVEN. 

m 

What a meeting on the other shore! If we could see there this 
morning how our hearts would enlarge. Multitudes around the 
throne to-day. I am charmed with that thought. There’s a central 
figure I am more charmed with—the Man on the Throne. His king¬ 
dom shall triumph over all. The time will come when every knee 

shall bow and every tongue confess. 

I think of the men gone before—fathers, mothers, little children 

_cloud up yonder. I think I can see them. Oh, there is a 

cloud of witnesses. I urge on my way, run my race, ever looking to 
Jesus, who is alone the finisher of faith. Oh, may this audience all 
follow Jesus and be a part of that grand gathering that shall meet 
on that other shore! 



Bishop M. Simpson, D. D. 






386 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE DEAR LOVE OF OLD. 


No comfort, nay, no comfort. Yet would I 
In Sorrow’s cause with Sorrow intercede. 

Burst not the great heart,—this is all I plead; 

Ah! sentence it to suffer, not to die. 

‘Comfort?’ It Jesus wept at Bethany— 

That doze and nap of Death—how may we bleed 
Who watch the long sleep that is sleep indeed! 

Pointing to Heaven I but remind you why 
On earth you still must mourn. He who, being bold 
For life-to-come, is false to the past sweet 
Of mortal life, hath killed the world above. 

For why to live again if not to meet? 

And why to meet if not to meet in love? 

And why in love if not in that dear love of old? 

Sydney Dobeli. 



SAINTLY SYMPATHY. 


When once we close our eyes in death, 
And flesh and spirit sever: 

When earth and fatherland and home, 
With all their beauty sink in gloom— 
Say, will it be forever? 

Will we, in heaven, no more review, 
Those scenes from which we sever? 
Or will our recollection leap 
O’er death’s dark gulf, at times, to keep 
With earth acquaintance ever? 

In life we loved the blessed past, 

It clings upon us ever; 

The songs of childhood and of home, 
Like music when the minstrel’s gone. 
Live in our hearts forever? 

The child’s included in the man, 

And part of him for ever;— 

The Past still in the Future lives 
And basis to its being gives, 

Not it, but of it, ever! 


UnknowH 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
LOYE UNITES US AGAIN. 


387 


REV. JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 


OMETIMES people liave a fear lest the friends who have 
gone before them may have gone on away from 
them; that progress may have removed them too far; that 
they will never be able to rise to their communion. But 
this is to forget, that, while progress tends to separate* 
love tends to unite again. The balance of the spiritual 
universe is maintained by these two antagonistic forces, 
just as the balance of the material universe is preserved by attraction 
on the one side, and the centrifugal force on the other. Does not a 
parent love a child, though the parent knows more, and is higher ? 
Did not Christ love his disciples ? When he went away, did not he 
say that he went to return again ? It is the work of the highest 
angels to help the lowliest sinners; and love always tends to bring 
together extremes and opposites, in order that progress may not pull 
the universe of souls apart. Our angels do not love us less because 
they have gone into heaven; they love us more. They do not forget 
us because they have ascended to God; they remember us more. The 
higher they go up the lowlier they lean down; for every acquisition, 
elevation and attainment in God’s heaven is used for the good of 
those who most need help, light and deliverance. 

In thinking of the other world, we sometimes seem to consider 
it impossible that the myriads of human beings who pass into it 
from all lands, races, nations; of all habits, tastes, characters, opin¬ 
ions, ages; infants and old men, should be provided, each with his own 
home, sphere, surroundings; that a suitable place should be got ready 
beforehand to receive every one of them. But why should that be 
more strange than that the same provision has been made in this 
world; that the tens of thousands who are born daily are born each 
into a home, on the bosom of a mother, with fostering care and pa¬ 
tient love around him? Each comes wholly helpless; each is helped 
fed, clothed, taught, by provided love. Not only so, but of the mill¬ 
ions of insects, reptiles, animals, fishes, daily arriving, each one comes 
to find its blade of grass, its leaf, made ready for it; each with the 
climate, the home, the food it needs. “In my Father’s house are 







388 


THE HOME BEYOND 


many mansions; if it were not so I would have told you. I go to 
prepare a place for you.” It may be part of the occupation of angels 
and higher spirits to prepare suitable circumstances for those who are 
to come after. 


COME UP HITHER. 

KEY. F. W. P. GREENWOOD, D. D. 



E hear other great voices from heaven, saying unto us, 
‘‘Come up hither!” They are the voices of the “glorious 
company of the apostles,” “ the goodly fellowship of the 
apostles,” “the noble army of martyrs,” the innumerable 
multitude of saints and sealed servants of God, which no 
man can number, of all nations and kindreds and people 
and tongues. Come up hither! they cry, and witness our 
joys, and be encouraged by our success. Ages roll on, but our pleas¬ 
ures are never new. Your years come to an end, but we have put on 
immortality. Your days and nights succeed each other, but there is 
no night here. Faint not at your tribulations; if we had fainted,we 
had not conquered. Behold our crowns and our palms. Fight the 
good fight, as we did; and then come up hither unto us, and swell our 
song of praise and victory, and join withusin ascribing blessing and 
honor and glory and power unto him who sitteth upon the throne 
and unto the Lamb for ever and ever! 

Where the spirits of all the just and good and pious and constant 
of all past times are assembled, shall not the spirit of every Christian, 
of every rational man desire to be, and strive to go ? Shall not theirs 
be the society of his choice ? Shall not their abode be the country 
of his own adoption? Will he refuse a little labor for such a rest? 
Will he repine at a light sorrow, which may work out for him such 
a weight of glory ? He will rather say, 


“This is the heaven I long to know: 

For this, with patience I would wait, 

Till weaned from earth, and all below, 

I mount to my celestial seat, 

Aud wave my palm, and wear my crown, 
And, with the elders, cast them down.” 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


•‘WILL YOU WRITE ABOUT ME, MOTHER?” 


MRS. N. I. M. SANDERSON. 



ILL you write a piece ’bout me, mother?” 
And round my neck he twined 
His arms with an earnest look 
His eyes gazed into mine. 

And then I felt his loving kiss, 

Pressed close upon my brow; 

As I to him the promise gave, 

To write one soon—not now! 


Then joyously he bounded off. 
Laughing in boyhood’s glee, 

And soon I heard him, “ Mother says 
She’ll write a piece ’bout me.” 

♦ & * * * 

A few short weeks have passed away— 
Once more I take my pen; 

And with an aching, heavy heart, 

I strive to write again. 

’Tis very strange! why comes he not 
To stand behind my chair? 

In vain 1 wait and call his name— 

In vain! he is not here! 


Perhaps he’ll leave his spirit home 
To hover near to-night; 

He’ll stand just where he used to stand, 
And watch me while I write. 

And when I’ve done, and read it loud, 
Will listen though unseen, 

And smile that I’ve my promise kept, 
And written ’bout him. 

Then closer comes and round my neck 
His phantom arms he’ll twine, 

And I shall feel, though all unseen, 

His spirit lips press mine. 

Oh! often I shall take my pen, 

As I have done to-night, 

Then I shall know my boy is near, 

To watch me while I write. 









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OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


391 


A BLIND GIRL’S DREAM. 


HAD a dream last night, Mother,— 

A dream replete with bliss; 

I was in a world of light, Mother, 

Not dark and cold like this; 

There were skies serene and cloudless, 
Sweet music filled the air, 

And all was bright and beautiful, 

For Jesus Christ was there. 

He wore a crown of glory, 

Containing pearls untold; 

And “ little children ” sung to Him, 
And struck their harps of gold; 

I wept to think I had no harp, 

That his praise I could not swell, 

For he looked so pure and holy, 

That I loved him deeply well. 

But brother William came to me, 

And bade me not to cry; 

He said I soon should have a harp 
And dwell with him on high; 

He wound his arms around my neck, 
And kissed me on my brow;— 

His eyes they looked so bright, Mother, 
I can almost see them now. 

This world has been all dark, Mother, 
My eyes have never seen 
The skies, so bright and beautiful, 

The meadows, fresh and green— 
And I have never gazed, Mother, 

Upon your loving smile, 

As you’ve told me of the Savior, 

In tones so sweet and mild. 

Dear Mother, I am going now 
Where little Willie’s gone; 

Nay, do not weep, I know, Mother 
You ll meet us very soon, 

Your little Annie now will see, 

For all in heaven is bright; 

I’m going, Mother, Willie’s come 
To guide me there,—good-nigh 4 - 




























































































































































OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


393 


While she raised the dear, cold body, with lustrous white impearled, 
Its little arms all helpless, its flaxen locks uncurled; 

And as her lips clung to it, the heavenly guest knelt by, 

And softly said to her spirit, “ Their angels can never die.” 


- — 

THE SPIRIT RETAINS ITS HUMAN FORM. 


BISHOP D. W. CLARK, D, D. 


HE Scriptures most clearly recognize this grand truth ; for 
wherever the dead are spoken of or represented as making 
their appearance upon earth, they are uniformally referred to 
i i as being in their appropriate human form. Hence it is that 

recognition and identification take place. This idea has 
prevailed in all ages. The heathen poets and philosophers 
thought and wrote of the shades of their departed friends appearing 
as when tabernacled in the flesh. It is the universal conception of 
human nature. It is an unconscious element of that faith in the 
heart of the Christian which exults in the confident expectation of 
seeing the loved ones who have gone into eternity, when he also shall 
have crossed over the irremeable flood. So does the Bible represent 
Dives to have seen and recognized Abraham and Lazarus, and them 
also to have recognized him ; so were seen Moses and Elias ; And so 
the great multitude around the throne of God were seen by St. John. 
Their form, their words, their actions, all marked them as having 
been once beings of earth, in spite of all the transformations of cir¬ 
cumstance, and time, and place. They were disembodied ; new 
scenes enchanted them; new glories blazed upon them; everything 
was wondrously new; but through all the human and personal were 
visibly and distinctly marked. 

The demand of this sentiment is met when we come to the recog. 
nition of the departed. Identity is what we want; nature craves 
for identity, and scripture gives back the response that assures us this 
identity shall remain. All the anicipated glories of a reunion 







394 


THE HOME BEYOND 


with the departed are enhanced by this prospect. The form may be 
vastly improved, infinitely more glorious, but it will be the same. 
Our friends or our children, who have been absent from us for a few 
years, sometimes become so changed that at first we do not recog¬ 
nize them, though their general form and identity are the same. So 
may it be with our friends in heaven. Our aged friends who totter 
with halting step and wasting frame to the grave, may there be re¬ 
juvenated and glowing with celestial life. Our children, nipped like 
the buds of Spring, may be so changed in the transition and rapid 
growth of heaven that it may be necessary for some attendant angel 
to point them out before we could recognize their beautiful forms. 
It shall gladden our eyes as we emerge from the gloom of the dark 
valley, to behold how glorious they have become, and to receive their 
welcome to the land of everlasting bliss. 

And ere thou art aware, the day may be 
When to those skies they’ll welcome thee.” 


THE DEAD ARE AYITH US. 


REV. S. IRE2ENUS PRIME, 1). D. 



tLLIONS of spiritual beings walk the earth unseen, both 
when we wake and when we sleep. And we believe, with 
many others, that if w T e were suddenly divested of this 
mortal, we should find ourselves in a vast ampitheatre 
reaching to the throne of God, filled with spirits, the un¬ 
seen witnesses, the cloud of witnesses of which we are en¬ 
compassed continually. There is a place where the Most High dwells 
in light that no man can approach, where the darkness of excessive 
brightness hangs over and around his throne, making Heaven, as 
Heaven is not elsewhere in the Universe of God. But neither time 
nor place may with propriety be affirmed of spiritual existence. * * 
It is, therefore, scriptural and rational to suppose that the spirits of 







OH VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


395 


our departed friends are around by day and night; not away from 
God ; his presence fills immensity ; he is everywhere present. If an 
angel or the soul should take the wings of the morning, and dwell in 
the uttermost part of the sea, there to be with us or with those we 
love, even there the gracious presence of God would dwell, and 
the sanctified would find Heaven as blessed and glorious as in the 
temple of which the lamb is the Light. 

THE DEPARTED STILL OURS. 


REV. H. W. BEECHER, D. D. 


HUS our friends are separated from us because they are 
lifted higher than our faculties can go. Our child dies. It 
is the last we can see of him here. He is lifted so far above 
us we cannot follow him. He was our child; he was cradled 
in our arms; he clambered upon our knees. But instantly in 
the twinkling of an eye, God took him, and lifted him up 
into his own sphere. And we see him not. But it is because we are 
not yet developed enough. We can not see things spiritual with car¬ 
nal eyes. Buj they who have walked with us here, who have 
gone beyond us, and whom we cannot see, are still ours. They are 
more ours than they ever were before. We cannot commune with 
them as we once could because they are infinitely lifted above those 
conditions in which we are able to commune. We remain here and 
are subject to the laws of this realm. They have gone where they 
speak a higher language, and live in a higher sphere. But this si¬ 
lence is not the silence of vacuity, and this mystery is not the mystery 
of darkness and death. This is the glory; ours is waiting for it. 
There is the realization ; ours is the hoping for it Theirs is the 
perfection ; ours is the immaturity striving to be ripe. And when 
the day comes that we shall disappear from these earthly scenes, we 
shall be joined to them again; not as we were—for we shall not then 
be as we were—but as they are, with God. We shall be like them 
and Him. 






the home beyond 

COWPER’S GRAVE. 


ELIZABETH BAEBETT BROWNING. 


T is a place where poets crowned 
May feel the heart’s decaying,— 

It is a place where happy saints 
May weep amid their praying: 

Yet let the grief and humbleness, * 
As low as silence, languish! 

Earth surely now may give her calm 
To whom she gave her anguish. 

O poets! from a maniac’s tongue, 

Was poured the deathless singing! 

O Christians! at your cross of hope, 

A hopeless hand was clinging! 

O men! this man, in brotherhood, 

Your weary paths beguiling, 

Groaned inly while he taught you peace, 
And died while ye were smiling. 

And now, what time ye all may read, 
Through dimming tears his story, 

How discord on the music fell, 

And darkness on the glory, 

And how, when one by one, sweet sounds 
And wandering lights departed, 

He wore no less a loving face 
Because so broken-hearted; 

He shall be strong to sanctify 
The poet’s high vocation, 

And bow the meekest Christian down 
In meeker adoration; 

Nor ever shall he be, in praise, 

By wise or good forsaken; 

Named softly, as the household name 
Of one whom God hath taken. 

With quiet sadness and no gloom, 

I learn to think upon him, 

With meekness that is gratefulness 
To God whose heaven has won him^ 
Who suffered once the madness-cloud, 

To His own Y>ve to blind him; 







OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN 


397 


But gently led the blind along 
Where breath and bird could find him, 

And wrought within his shattered brain, 
Such quick poetic senses, 

As hills have language for, and stars, 
Harmonious influences! 

The pulse of dew upon the grass 
Kept his within its number; 

And silent shadows from the trees 
Refreshed him like a slumber. 

Wild timid hares were drawn from woods 
To share his home caresses, 

Uplooking to his human eyes 
With sylvan tendernesses: 

The very world, by God’s constraint, 
From falsehood’s ways removing, 

Its women and its men became 
Beside him, true and loving. 

But while in blindness he remained 
Unconscious of the guiding, 

And things provided came without 
The sweet sense of providing, 

He testified this solemn truth, 

Though frenzy desolated— 

Nor man nor nature satisfy, 

Whom only God created! 

Like a sick child that knoweth not 
His mother while she blesses 
And drops upon his burning brow 
The coolness of her kisses,— 

That turns his fevered eyes around— 
“My mother! where’s my mother?” 

As if such tender words and looks 
Could come from any other!— 

The fever gone, with leaps of heart, 

He sees her bending o’er him; 

Her face all pale from watchful love, 

The unweary love she bore him!— 
Thus, woke the poet from the dream, 

His life’s long fever gave him, 

Beneath those deep pathetic eyes, 

Which closed in death to save him l 

Thus? oh, not thus\ no type of earth 
Could image that awaking, 


398 


THE HOME BEYOND 


Wherein he scarcely heard the chant 
Of seraphs, round him breaking, 

Or felt the new immortal throb 
Of soul from body parted; 

But felt those eyes alone , and knew 
My Savior! not deserted! 

Deserted! who hath dreamt that when 
The Cross in darkness rested, 

Upon the Victim’s hidden face, 

No love was manifested? 

What frantic hand outstretched have e’r 
The atoning drops averted, 

What tears have washed them from the soul, 
That one should be deserted ? 

Deserted! God could separate 
From His own essence rather: 

And Adam’s sins have swept between 
The righteous Son and Father; 

Yea,sOnce, Immanuel’s orphaned cry, 

His universe hath shaken— 

It went up single, echoless, 

“ My God, I am forsaken!” 

It went up from the Holy’s lips 
Amid His lost creation, 

That, of the lost, no son should use 
Those words of desolation; 

That earth’s worst frenzies, marring hope, 
Should mar not hope’s fruition, 

And I, on Cowper’s grave, should see 
His rapture, in a vision! 



O mighty grace, our life to live 
To make our earth divine; 

O mighty grace! Thy heaven to giv e, 
And lift our Life to Thine! 

O strange the gifts and marvellous. 
By Thee received and given! 

Thou tookest woe and death from us, 
And we receive Thy Heaven! 


T. H. Gill. 


OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


399 


DEPARTED FRIENDS NEAR US. 


BISHOP M. SIMPSON, D. I). 


OW strange is this feeling of a spiritual world, an invisible 
realm, that gathers so closely around the Christian heart 
near the hour of death ? All along through life we are in 
the midst of the invisible, stepping on its very verge. Bright 
forms are around us unseen ; ministering angels guard our 
footsteps. But when the eye is clear, the ear is quick, the 
limbs are strong, the heart beats regularly, and the nerves are 
trained for intense action, the visible tills our thoughts, commands 
our time and energies. But when the charms of earth fade, the 
system loses its power, the hour of action has gone, how sweetly 
steals over the soul thoughts of the presence of unseen forms, and how 
near may man feel to the throne of God! When the work of Stephen 
was ended, though in the active hours of his strength, yet he saw 
the heavens opened, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God. 
Paul, in his prison hours, had glimpses of the glorious crown of 
righteousness reserved for him. Dying saints, in all ages, have felt 
a nearness to a glorious realm. But as we read of such scenes 
cheering the martyrs or the apostles, or the leading minds of earthy 
we may possibly fancy that such greetings do not meet the Christian 
in the ordinary walks of life : but when in our own circle of friends, 
we see the lovely, the frail, the delicate, as they pass away, grow 
strong in faith and love, and hope, as they listen to voices calling 
from the spirit land ; as bright visions of the future rise before them, 
seems to draw near to earth, and we almost feel that we, too, have 
friends in light who may be hovering around us. To those of us who 
know the deep pang of parting with loved ones of our family, who 
know the shadow which grief casts over the household, and feel 
a loneliness because the voice of a loved one is no longer heard, what 
a consolation to think of the associations of heaven ! 



Then in the living God we’ll trust, 
Who doeth all things well; 

The body shall return to dust, 

The soul in heaven shall dwell. 



















\ 














OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


401 


THE DEPARTED EMPLOYED ON MINISTRIES OF LOVE. 


BISHOP R. S. FOSTER, D. D., LL. D. 



HAT, then, is this truth which we believe ? The dead live. 
In the years gone we had them with us; they became very 
dear to us. They separated from the throng, and gave us 
their love. They grew into our being, and were a part of 
us. One day they became very weary and sick. We 
thought nothing of it at first; but morning after morning 
came, and they were more faint. The story of the dark days that 
followed is too sad. One dreary night, with radiant face, they kissed 
us, and said good-bye. They were dead. Kind neighbors came and 
carried them out of our homes, and we followed with dumb awe, and 
saw them lay them down gently beneath the earth. We returned to 
the vacant house, which never could be home again. Our hearts 
were broken. The earth and sky have been so dark since that day. 
We have searched through the long nights and desolate days for 
them, but we cannot find them; they do not come back. We listen, 
but we get no tidings. Neither form nor voice comes to us. The 
dark, silent immensity has swallowed them up. Are they extinct ? 
No. They live; we cannot tell where, whether near us or remote; 
we cannot tell in what form, but they live. They are essentially the 
same beings they were when they went in and out among us. There 
has been no break in their life. It is as if they had crossed the sea. 
The old memories and old loves still are with them. New friends do 
not displace old ones. They are more beautiful than when we knew 
them, and purer, and holier, and happier. They are not sick or 
weary now. They have no sorrow. They are not alone. They have 
joined others. They think and talk of us. They make affectionate 
inquiries for our welfare. They wait for us. They are learning 
great lessons, which they mean to recite to us some day. They are 
not lonely; they are a glorious company. They have no envies or 
jealousies. They are ravished with the happiness of their new life. 
I do not know where it is, or how it is; but I am certain it is so. 
They are kings and priests unto God. They wear crowns that flash 
in the everlasting light. They wear robes that are spotlessly white. 





402 


THE HOME BEYOND 


They wave victorious palms. They sing anthems of such exceeding 
sweetness as no earthly choirs ever approach. They stand before 
the throne. They fly on ministries of love. They muse on tops of 
Mount Zion. They meditate on the banks of the river of life. They 
are rapturous with ecstasies of love. God wipes away all tears from 
their faces, and there is no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, 
nor any more pain; for the former things are passed away. The 
glorious angels are their teachers and companions. But why attempt 
to describe their ineffable state ? It hath not entered into the heart 
of man to conceive it. 



WE DO NOT LOSE DEPARTED FRIENDS. 


It is a hasty conclusion, and one which marks an inadequate 
apprehension of the nature of friendship to say that we lose a friend 
when he dies. Death is not only unable to quench the genuine sense 
of friendship between the living and the dead ; it is also unable to 
prevent the going forth of a real feeling of friendship for the dead 
whom we have, it may be, never known at all. Goldwin Smith, in 
his new biography of Cowper, says of that poet : “There is some¬ 
thing about him so attractive, his voice has such a silver tone, he 
retains, even in his ashes, such a faculty of winning friends, that 
his biographer and critic may be easily beguiled into giving him too 
high a place.” Have we not an added help toward a kindly life in 
the thought that we may win new friends when our bodies are laid 
in the dust ? 

H, Clay Trumbull. 



The sunshine and the trembling leaves, 
The blue o’erarching sky, 

The music of the wandering winds 
That float in whispers by— 

All speak in tender tones to me 
Of life’s parted hours and thee. 



OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 
THE VOICES OF THE DEAD. 


403 


WILLIAM AIRMAN, D. D. 


EE dead speaii by their lives, by their works, and by theii 
words. They speak in the ear of memory and affections 
The friends we have loved pass away from onr sight, br' 
they live in our memory and our hearts, while their voice 
comes back to us with a power that it never had when we 
saw their moving lips. To some there are more voices 
of the dead than of the living, and they are sweeter voices 
than the ear shall ever hear again. A little thing may wake 
them. Perhaps it is the tone of some friend who is speak¬ 
ing. It came and went, and was only for a moment, but in 
that moment memory was busy, and the old remembered voice comes 
up ; you hear the living no more while you listen. Your look falls 
upon some memorial of the past; perhaps it is the little shoe that 
you took off once with a smile and a kiss, but which has been waiting 
ever since for the cushioned feet that shall fill it no more; perhaps 
it is the shawl that you once wrapped around the form that you 
could shield from the winter’s wind, but not from the blast of death; 
perhaps it is a footfall that is wondrously like the tread, telling of a 
presence which was life and health to the home ; perhaps it is the 
worn cane which once steadied uncertain steps ; perhaps it is only a 
glove that you last saw in a sister’s hand—anything may be enough. 
Straightway your gaze is fixed, you hold the token, but soon you see 
it not, your eye is looking far beyond through the door it has opened. 
Now the past is past no more, the dead are dead no more, nor are 
they silent. With the form comes the voice. You listen, and it 
begins to speak. It may be a little voice which prattles as in the 
other days ; perhaps it is a mother’s voice, and it calls your name, and 
then you listen to words of counsel and advice which you did not 
know before had so deep a meaning ; perhaps it is a wife’s voice,and 
it speaks in all the confidence of love. Whichever it may be, it is 
real now and has a more than living power. You only can tell what 
the voice is saying, your ear alone heard it and your heart alone 
interprets it. 

Sometimes the dead speaR reproachfully, and sometimes gladly 
and encouragingly. The voices are not all or always sad, nor always 






404 


THE HOME BEYOND 


full of cheer. The long-hushed whisper never has in it anything of 
anger or of passion ; it is very calm and low, but terribly distinct, and 
changes not. Oh, how many a weary, discouraged wayfarer has 
started up with another life, because a low, sweet call has reached his 
ear from the long departed. 

——■ 

THE CHILD AND THE MOUKNEKS. 


CHARLES MACKAY. 



LITTLE child, beneath a tree 
Sat and chanted cheerily 
A little song, a pleasant song, 

Which was—she sang it all day long— 
“When the wind blows the blossoms fall; 
But a good God reigns over all.” 


There passed a lady by the way, 
Moaning in the face of day, 

There were tears upon her cheek, 
Grief in her heart too great to speak; 
Her husband died but yester-morn, 
And left her in the world forlorn. 


She stopped and listened to the child 
That looked to heaven, and singing, smiled 
And saw not for her own despair, 

Another lady, young and fair, 

Who also passing, stopped to hear 
The infant’s anthem ringing clear. 

For she but few sad days before 
Had lost the little babe she bore; 

And grief was heavy at her soul 
As that sweet memory o’er her stole. 

And showed how bright had been the past, 
The present drear and overcast 

And as they stood beneath the tree 
Listening, soothed and placL\y ; 




OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


A youth came by, whose sunken eyes 
Spake of a load of miseries; 

And he, arrested like the twain, 

Stopped to listen to the strain. 

Death had bowed the youthful head 
Of his bride beloved, of his bride unwed: 
Her marriage robes were fitted on, 

Her fair young face with blushes shone, 
When the destroyer smote her low, 

And changed the lover’s bliss to woe. 

And these three listened to the song, 
Silver-toned, and sweet, and strong, 
Which that child, the live-long day, 
Chanted to itself in play. 

“ When the wind blows the blossoms fall, 
But a good God reigns over all.” 

The widow’s lips impulsive moved; 

The mother’s grief, tho’ unreproved, 
Softened as her trembling tongue 
Repeated what the infant sung; 

And the sad lover, with a start, 

Conned it over to his heart. 

And though the child—if child it were, 
And not a seraph sitting there— 

Was seen no more, the sorrowing three 
Went on their way resignedly, 

The song still ringing in their ears— 

Was it music of the spheres? 

Who shall tell? They did not know. 

But in the midst of deepest woe 
The strain recurred when sorrow grew, 
To warn them and console them too: 

“ When the wind blows the blossoms fall. 
But a good God reigns over all.” 



There's a beautiful face in the silent air 
Which follows me ever and near, 

With its smiling eyes and amber hair, 

With voiceless lips, yet with breath of pray’r, 
That I feel, but I cannot hear. 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE FAMILY IN HEAVEN AND EARTH. 


IS but one family,—the sound is balm, 

A seraph-whisper to the wounded heart, 

It lulls the storm of sorrow to a calm, 

And draws the venom from the avenger’s dart. 

T’is but one family,—the accents come 

Like light from heaven to break the night of woe, 

The banner-cry, to call the spirit home, 

The shout of victory o’er a fallen foe. 

Death cannot separate—is memory dead ? 

Has thought, too, vanished, and has love grown chill ? 
Has every relic and memento fled, 

And are the living only with us still ? 

No ! in our hearts the lost we mourn remain 
Objects of love and ever-fresh delight; 

And fancy leads them in her fairy train, 

In half-seen transports past the mourner’s sight. 

Yes ! in ten thousand ways, or far or near, 

The called by love, by meditation brought, 

In heavenly visions yet they haunt us here, 

The sad companions of our sweetest thought. 

Death never separates ; the golden wires 
That ever trembled to their names before, 

Will vibrate still, though every form expires. 

And those we love, we look upon no more. 

No more indeed in sorrow and in pain, 

But even memory’s need ere long will cease, 

For we shall join the lost of love again, 

In endless bands, and in eternal peace. 


Edmeston. 






OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN . 


407 


THE HAPPIER SPHERE. 



HOULD yon bright stars which gem the night, 
& Be each a blissful dwelling sphere, 

Where kindred spirits re*unite, 

Whom death has torn asunder here, 

How sweet it were at once to die, 

And leave this blighted orb afar— 

Mix soul with soul, to cleave the sky, 

And soar away from star to star. 


But oh! how dark, how drear, how lone 
Would seem the brightest world of bliss, 

If wandering through each radiant zone, 

We failed to find the loved of this! 

If there no more the ties should twine, 

Which death’s cold hand alone can sever, 
Ah! then these stars in mockery shine, 

More hateful as they shine forever. 

It cannot be!—each hope and fear 

That blights the eye or clouds the brow, 
Proclaims there is a happier sphere 
Than this black world which holds us now! 
There is a voice which sorrow hears, 

When heaviest weighs life’s galling chains; 
’Tis heaven that whispers, “ dry thy tears— 
The pure in heart shall meet again!” 



TIES NOT BROKEN IN DEATH. 


We delight greatly in the hope that the ties which bind ns to 
our sainted friends are not broken in death—that while we are loving 
them still, they love us too; and while we long to find them again 
heyare watching with holy interest over us, and are alluring us, by 
sweet mysterious influences, into their holy society, and into a par 
ticipation, with them, of celestial joys. Seeing we are compassed 
about with so great a cloud of witnesses, we are animated to lay 
aside every weight—even that of the body itself in death—that we, 
may fly to their embraces, and be near them, as they are near the 
Lord. Rev. H. Harbaugh. 






408 


THE HOME BEYOND 


THE SAINTED DEAD. 


OW beautiful is the belief of man’s immortality! The dead 
alive again and forever. “ Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, 
dust to dust,” is only spoken over the body, when consigned 
to “the house appointed for all the living.” Not such the 
requiem of the soul. A refrain of immortality concludes 
earth’s history and announces eternity’s beginnings. “Not 
lost, but gone before.” Such is the cherished and beautiful 
faith of man in all ages and lands; a mere glimmering indeed in 
minds unirridiated with divine truth; and only a power and a joy 
when God’s voice audibly falls upon the ear in words of counsel and 
prophecy. 

The sainted dead dwell in life; beholding “ the king in his 
beauty;” shining “ as the brightness of the firmament, and as the 
stars for ever and ever.” They fade no more, nor realize pain; a 
wealth of love is theirs, a heritage of goodness, a celestial habitation; 
and in them thoughts, hopes, feelings expand and move forward in 
ceaseless progressions. We may feel sad because they are lost to us; 
but while we weep and wonder, they are wrapped in garments of 
light and warble songs of celestial joy. They will return to us no 
more, but we shall go to them; share their pleasures; emulate their 
sympathies; and compete with them in the path of endless develop¬ 
ment. We could not call them back. In the homes above they are 
great, and well-employed and blest. Shadows fall upon them no 
more; nor is life ruffled with anxious cares; love rules their life and 
thoughts; and eternal hopes beckon them forever to the pursuit of 
infinite good. 

To whom are these thougths strange and dull? Who has no 
treasure in Heaven—well-remembered forms hallowed by separation 
and distance—stars of hope illumining with ever increasing beauty 
life’s utmost horizon? What family circle has remained unbroken— 
no empty chair—no cherished mementoes—voices and footsteps re¬ 
turning no more—no members transferred to the illimitable beyond ? 
Where is he who has stood unhurt amid the chill blasts, that have 
blighted mortal hopes, and withered mortal loves? Alas! the steps of 
death are everywhere; his voice murmuring in every sweep of the 





OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 


409 


wind; his ruins visible on towering hill and in sequestered vale. We 
all have felt or seen his power. Beneath the cypress we rest and 
weep; our hearts riven with memories of the loved and lost; and yet 
hope springing eternal from earth’s mausoleums to penetrate and 
posses the future. 

Heaven is ours; for is it not occupied by our dead? Heaven 
and earth lay near together in the myths of the ancients; and shall 
it be otherwise in the institutions of Christianity? We need faith. 
Our paths are surrounded by the departed; our assemblies multiplied 
by their presence; our lives bettered by their ministries. From be¬ 
neath light shadows we look forward into the approaching day; and 
while we gaze the beams of the morning spread light and loveliness 
over the earth. It is not otherwise, as from beneath the night of 
time we peer anxiously after the pure day of Heaven. 

Faith penetrates the vail, and bids the invisible stand disclosed; 
while its magic wand wakens into life forms well-known, but holier 
and lovelier far than we knew them here. Such thoughts make us 
better, purer, gentler. We cannot keep society with the sainted 
dead, and with the great God in whose presence they dwell, without 
feeling a nobler life throbbing through us. They draw us upward. 
We grow less earthly, more heavenly; and God-like aspirations come 
to us, as we wander along the border land where dwell the sainted 
dead. Too little do we seek such communings. Our time is so 
absorbed with perishable and unsatisfying forms of good: and so we 
lose the image of the heavenly, and grow carnal. The oeauty of 
our life fades; and we are left to hanker after passing shadows and 
unsubstantial dreams. Let us tear away oftener from these earthly 
moorings; let us walk more steadily in the light of celestial com¬ 
panionship; and so attain to the true and the good, as they have at¬ 
tained who roam the hills of immortality. 

“They dwell with thee—the dead; 

Pavilioned in auroral tents of light; 

Their spheres of heavenly influence round thee spread, 

Their pure transparence vailing them from sight, 

Angelic ministers of love and peace, 

Whose sweet solicitudes will never cease.” 

Communion by faith with the immortals can not fail to 
strengthen us for the stern conflicts of life. At once this earthly 
existence is seen in its true light; the opening of a day that shall 


410 


THE HOME BEYOND 


never close; the spring-time of a year that will know no end, (he 
initial chapter in a volume whose records shall find no final page 
nor incident. When fife is thus truly gauged, we learn to place t 
proper estimate upon its passing pomps and pleasures; and we grow 
less sensitive to the world’s smiles and frowns; more careful to seek 
after the eternal good. The example of the sainted dead, who toiled 
and endured till they now reign, affects us; and we feel strong for 
like conflicts, and ready for equal labors, till in us too the mortal 
shall put on the immortal. Divine ties spring up, and last forever, 
binding the heart to the good, the beautiful, the true, and making it 
strong for the work and trials of life. 

And communion with the dead, whom we nave known and 
loved on earth, will make Heaven more real and attractive to us; 
dissipating the vagueness of the notion with which it is too often 
regarded; begetting within us abiding attachments for celestial seats. 
God, who created the world, and whose providence is everywhere 
visible in promoting our welfare, is there; and Jesus, who died for 
us, and with whom we have grown familiar in his earthly history; 
and the Holy Spirit, the sanctifier of the church, and whose gentle 
influences we have felt within us. And our friends are there,— 
changeless, loving spirits now,—yet with lineaments familiar and 
iorms well remembered. The homes of the blest are no longer vague, 
indistinct, poorly defined. We see them—the beautiful city, the out¬ 
lined hills of immortality—the on-flowing river making glad the 
palaces of God. And we can have an idea of what they must be— 
now substantial in their foundations—how vast in their proportions 
—how rich in their furnishings—to be fitting habitations for the im¬ 
mortals. Heaven comes nearer to us, and grows more attractive, as 
we think of the loved ones who dwell there. 



“ It was not, mother, that I knew thy face: 

The luminous eclipse that is on it now, 

Though it was fair on earth, would have made it strange 
Even to one who knew as well as he loved thee; 

But my heart cried out in me, Mother I” 


Cowfer, 



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